They took their places at a distant table. He talked in the same style, and pretty nearly in the same language; laughed in the same manner, and coughed, or sneezed at the same time. " In less time than Hobson had mentioned, the carriage was announced. ‘What is it?’ ‘Er—shouldn’t I tell—I mean, the young lady, sir—’ ‘You can leave the young lady to me. She found it rather funny that he always wore the shirt fastidiously tucked in and never wore the ensemble without a stiff brown leather belt. I cannot protect you. “Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. The sun was setting in spectacular multicolored streams beyond Whitefield Park. “It’s the stir of spring,” he said.
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