You can't enter into a rider's feelings when
you've almost forgotten which side of the horse you get up."
I walked with him to the Serpentine. I had been wondering how it was
he had grown stout so suddenly. He had a bath towel round him
underneath his coat.
"It'll give me my death of cold, I know it will," he chattered while
unlacing his boots.
"Can't you leave it till the summer-time," I suggested, "and take her
to Ostend?"
"It wouldn't be unconventional," he growled. "She wouldn't take an
interest in it."
"But do they allow ladies to bathe in the Serpentine?" I persisted.
"It won't be the Serpentine," he explained. "It's going to be the
Thames at Greenwich. But it must be the same sort of feeling. She's
got to tell them all about it during a lunch in Queen's Gate, and
shock them all. That's all she does it for, in my opinion."
He emerged a mottled blue. I helped him into his clothes, and he was
fortunate enough to find an early cab. The book appeared at
Christmas. The critics agreed that the heroine was a delightful
creation. Some of them said they would like to have known her.
Remembering my poor friend, it occurred to me that by going out now
and making a few notes about the morning, I might be saving myself
trouble later on. I slipped on a few things--nothing elaborate--put
a notebook in my pocket, opened the door and went down.
Perhaps it would be more correct to say "opened the door and was
down.
Pages:
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63