The Gladiators
the head doctor to let him bring the Linnet over on Saturday, and that if everything—his health and so on—seemed favorable he would let him play. He said he felt quite strongly how much the honor of the town was at stake; said that he knew one of the Gladiators personally: a blithering ass who was at Guys with him, and he thought nothing would ever give him such pure unadulterated pleasure as to see the starch thoroughly taken out of him. He's no end of a sportsman."
"He must be," I said meekly. "Of course he knows his business, but it seems to me a bit risky. Suppose Linwood gets one of his violent fits on the ground? Suppose—"
"Oh, you're an old woman." Georgie went home in disgust.
I couldn't help feeling that under the circumstances Linwood was more likely to lose the game for them than to win it, but I went wisely back to my "Lost Columbine" and forgot him.
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