“I won’t have you quarrelling and crying in the Avenue,” he said. ‘Think it’s worth getting some sort of light and following her down there?’ asked Roding. ‘What are you, a nincompoop? She was Nicholas’s wife, of course. ” They loitered under trees, they sat on mossy banks they gossiped on friendly benches, they came back to lunch at the “Star and Garter,” and talked their afternoon away in the garden that looks out upon the crescent of the river. On the other hand, you seldom revere your immediate grandfather, unless he has promised to leave you some money.
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