The City worried him a good deal, and what energy he had left over he spent partly in golf, a game he treated very seriously, and partly in the practices of microscopic petrography. The manager had sketched the girl's character, or rather had interpreted it, from the incidents which had happened since dinner. Better come another morning. In fact he was thinking of other things. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. She responded as he slipped his hands under her sweater.
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