The Scent of Water
“Hepplewhite decided to go for a walk. The decision was momentous, for he never walked. Like all the lordly ones, he shot, that being the natural activity of the species, and he played golf to keep his weight down, and these pursuits involved walking, but walking for walking’s sake had always seemed to him an act of insanity. What was the point of it? Muscles could be stretched in more intelligent ways and the beauties of nature could be more conveniently observed from the window of a car. There... was of course this question of wanting to be alone. On a golf course there were other men. A car did not take one to lonely places and legs did. But he could be alone in his library. Shrugging on his mackintosh in the hall, he realized with something of a shock that he had not wanted to be alone out of doors since his childhood. Not until this afternoon.
Mrs. Hepplewhite, her needlework in her hand, had come to the door of the drawing room. “Are you going out, Frederick?”MoreLess
Mrs. Hepplewhite, her needlework in her hand, had come to the door of the drawing room. “Are you going out, Frederick?”MoreLess
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