Noel Yarde began to serve. Jane was astounded by his speed and strength... Her eyes darted after him wherever he went; she never looked at the other player.
Goodness, but he was beautiful! She had not known he was so beautiful as this; his lean hips, his long stretch of arm and leg, the way his head was set on his neck. How he played! His shirt hung wetly to his back. Was he winning? Jane hadn't an idea, and daren't ask. Her eyes followed him unceasingly.' Dorothy Whipple High Wages
Who will be your Wimbledon heart throb this year?