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The bush quivered in a haze of heat; the sandy road was empty except for the Trouts' dog Snooker, who lay stretched in the very middle of it. His blue eye was turned up, his legs stuck out stiffly, and he gave an occasional desperate-sounding puff, as much as to say he had decided to make an end of it and was only waiting for some kind cart to come along. "What are you looking at, my grandma?
"The stretching across the table does me good." "We'll have a snooker, then," Major Harrison decided. They played for some time. The wizened-looking little man came and watched them benevolently, peering every now and then through his spectacles, and applauding mildly any particularly good stroke. At eleven o'clock they turned out the lights and made their way to their rooms.
He was absent for about twenty minutes. When he returned, they had finished the game of snooker pool without him and were all sitting on the lounge by the side of the billiard table, talking of the war. Granet listened for a few minutes and then said good-night a little abruptly. He lit his candle outside and went slowly to his room. Arrived there, he glanced at his watch and locked the door.
"He's Mister George Harpwood," cries Corkey bitterly, "and if he aint no snooker, then you needn't tell me I ever see one!" Esther Lockwin looks upon George Harpwood as her savior. "I wanted to be happy," she smiles. "I did not believe I could exist in that desolate state. You came to me! You came to me!"
It was plain that the trout were the trout that Mr. Pumshock, the stock-broker and amateur gentleman, had preserved so carefully in the Easy. Hitherto the countryside had been forced to regard Mr. Pumshock's trout with an almost superstitious respect. A year ago young Snooker had done a month for one of those very trout. But now things were different.
By the time that Arthur Payne arrived the days were drawing in, and she saw very little of them, except in the evenings, after dinner, when she and Considine would join them in a game of snooker in the billiard-room, or take a hand of whist, old-fashioned whist, in the library. It was here that she first became personally aware of Arthur's disability.
Then he turned to where the youngest and most frivolous of his guests were in the act of rising from the tea table. "A game of pills, Eddy," he proposed. "They tell me that pool is one of your greatest accomplishments." "I'm pretty useful," the young man confessed, with a satisfied chuckle. "Give you a black at snooker, what?" Dominey took his arm and led him into the billiard-room.
Anyhow he grew up the perfect and heartless snob, and by the time he left Oxford, he would sooner have been seen in a Black Maria with Lord Snooker than in a heavenly chariot with a prophet of unmodish garment and vulgar ancestry. To the finished Haddock, a tie was more than a character, and the cut of a coat more than the cutting of a loving heart.
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