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Updated: May 5, 2025
"Forty-Love." "Game! and Set. Six to two." A ripple of cheers ran round the court, followed by a buzz of excited conversation. The young men smiled at each other and at their friends on the side lines and proceeded to change courts for the next set, pausing for refreshments on the way. "Much too lazy, Captain Jack.
You may worship them, all right enough, but it is safer to do so at long distance. Suppose you were hooked up for life to a lady champion and you happened to displease her? She'd spank you! Think of being laid face downward firmly across a sinewy knee and beaten forty-love with one of those hard catgut rackets!
There was an outburst of applause form the others at a particularly brilliant shot below. "By George!" cried Westcott, "she's got him. It's Hermia's vantage and forty-love. O Reggie! A love game, by Jiminy! Hermia, you've won me a cool hundred." The game was over and the players shook hands before the net, Hermia laughing gaily, Armistead's eyes full of honest adoration.
The ninth game went to forty-love before Holt succeeded in handling one of the sizzling serves that Amy put across. Then he returned to the back of the court and Amy banged the ball into the net. A double fault brought the score to 40-30, but on the next serve Amy again skimmed one over that Holt failed with and the games were 5-4. "I hope he gets this," murmured Clint.
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