They got to go home and eat Campbell’s Chicken Soup. Like a petulant child he snapped. “He will find it difficult no doubt to alter his style of living,” she said. ” They loitered under trees, they sat on mossy banks they gossiped on friendly benches, they came back to lunch at the “Star and Garter,” and talked their afternoon away in the garden that looks out upon the crescent of the river. He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. She would not forgive me. People had started filling the hall: instrumentalists, overly conscientious parents. ’ ‘And was not she put out?’ demanded Miss Froxfield with a tinkling laugh.
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