II
Topics of engrossing mental interests are bad form on the golf-links,
since they leave a disturbing memory in the mind to divert it from that
absolute intellectual concentration which the game demands. Therefore
Pickings and Booverman, as they started toward the crowded first tee,
remarked _de rigueur_:
"Good weather."
"A bit of a breeze."
"Not strong enough to affect the drives."
"The greens have baked out."
"Fast as I've seen them."
"Well, it won't help me."
"How do you know?" said Pickings, politely, for the hundredth time.
"Perhaps this is the day you'll get your score."
Booverman ignored this set remark, laying his ball on the rack, where
two predecessors were waiting, and settled beside Pickings at the foot
of the elm which later, he knew, would rob him of a four on the home
green.
Wessels and Pollock, literary representatives, were preparing to drive.
They were converts of the summer, each sacrificing their season's output
in a frantic effort to surpass the other. Pickings, the purist, did not
approve of them in the least.
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