scarcely more than slits in his healthy skin. Just where he began
to be beautiful the clothes started. Round his neck went an
up-and-down collar and a mauve-and-gold tie, and the rest of his
limbs were hidden by a grey lounge suit, carefully creased in the
right places.

"Lovely! Lovely!" cried Agnes, banging on the gate, "Your train
must have been to the minute."

"Hullo!" said the athlete, and vomited with the greeting a cloud
of tobacco-smoke. It must have been imprisoned in his mouth some
time, for no pipe was visible.

"Hullo!" returned Rickie, laughing violently. They shook hands.

"Where are you going, Rickie?" asked Agnes. "You aren't grubby.
Why don't you stop? Gerald, get the large wicker-chair. Herbert
has letters, but we can sit here till lunch. It's like spring."

The garden of Shelthorpe was nearly all in front an unusual and
pleasant arrangement. The front gate and the servants' entrance
were both at the side, and in the remaining space the gardener
had contrived a little lawn where one could sit concealed from
the road by a fence, from the neighbour by a fence, from the
house by a tree, and from the path by a bush.

"This is the lovers' bower," observed Agnes, sitting down on the
bench. Rickie stood by her till the chair arrived.

"Are you smoking before lunch?" asked Mr. Dawes.