It eenthe coarse- fishing season.

    I  y in fixing tted ory t ig t moment I’d even told el I o stay at, Rotom’s Family and Commercial. I o knoayed t time I didn’t  ing to me at Birming do if I er t over I took young Saunders, o my confidence. o mention t eent o promise t op on  a letter from me to tom’s. to tell  I migter not e. Saunders understood, or t  settled  asked any questions, and even if surned suspicious later, an alibi like t ake some breaking.

    I drove ter  breeze bloops stle reaming across tside esterearing to it  t suddenly reminded me of time  t t got it in yet. It lay drying in long s drifted across t mixed up rol.

    I drove along at a gentle fifteen. ted about on t too satisfied to eat. In Nettlefield, tertle man in a aced across ted o attract my attention. My car’s kno’s only Mr eaver,  to insure  of cs to knotlefield, not even at the pub.

    I drove on. t . It  undulating up and do green carpet,  a little, kind of t’s like a . It makes you  to lie on it. And a bit a  for Oxford.

    I ill on my usual beat, inside trict’, as t. tural t by a kind of instinct I’d folloe. t y about ted to get  t I’d fixed tly e of t-book and tcase in t nearer tually felt a temptation—I kne going to succumb to it, and yet it emptation—to c of feeling t so long as I  I ill inside t’s not too late, I t. till time to do table to Pudley, for instance, see t at Pudley) and find out if any neter I could even turn round, go back to  of t.

    I slo to t I?