A few cries of birds,
the distant shouts of harvesters, the rustling of the water-flags along
the stream, these were the only sounds--traditional sounds of English
peace.
"Jolly, isn't it?" said Ashe, looking round him--"even this spoiled
country! Why did we go and stifle in that beastly show!"
The sensuous pleasure and relaxation of his mood communicated itself to
Darrell. They talked more intimately, more freely than they had done for
months. Darrell's gnawing consciousness of his own meaner fortunes, as
contrasted with the brilliant and expanding career of his school-friend,
softened and relaxed. He almost forgave Ashe the successes of the
winter, and that subtly heightened tone of authority and self-confidence
which here and there bore witness to them in the manner or talk of the
minister. They scarcely touched on politics, however. Both were tired,
and their talk drifted into the characteristic male gossip--"What's ----
doing now?" "Do you ever see So-and-so?" "You remember that fellow at
Univ.?"--and the like, to the agreeable accompaniment of Ashe's best
cigars.
So pleasant was the half-hour, so strongly had the old college intimacy
reasserted itself, that suddenly a thought struck upward in Darrell's
mind.
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