Leaned across a gate, turned up the collar of his mackintosh. It was going to rain. It didn't matter, he was prepared for it. You didn't expect anything else in November. He looked over the bare field. From the corner by the gate there came the smell of swedes, a great stack of them, wet, rank coloured. Two men passed walking towards the straggling village. " Good day ! " " Good day ! " By Jove ! he had to hurry if he was going to catch that train home. Over the gate, across a field, over the stile, into the lane, swinging along in the drifting rain and dusk. . . . Just home in time for a bath and a change before supper. . . . In the drawing-room; Jinnie is sitting pretty nearly in the fire. " Oh, Robert, I didn't hear you come in. Did you have a good time ? How nice you smell! A present ? " " Some bits of blackberry I picked for you. Pretty colour." " Oh, lovely, Robert! Dennis and Beaty are coming to supper." Supper—cold beef, potatoes in their jackets, claret, household bread. They are gay— page 186everybody's laughing. " Oh, we all know Robert," says Dennis, breathing on his eyeglasses and polishing them. " By the way, Dennis, I picked up a very jolly little edition of . . ."