A
trolley-car rolled up in front of the club, and several golf
enthusiasts alighted. They knew Patty, and bowed; they weren't quite
certain who her escort was.
At two o'clock they began the journey home. There wasn't much
loitering by the way. Patty had a tea; she must have time to rest and
dress. All told, it was an enjoyable day for Warrington. More than
ever he set his face against the great city and looked with
satisfaction on the hills of his childhood. It would be a pleasant
pastime to sit on Patty's veranda and talk, become, and act like one
of the young people. He was growing old; his youth must be renewed
soon, or he would lose it utterly. This young man had been surfeited
with noise and light, with the sham and glitter of hotels, clubs and
restaurants. He was not to the manner born; thus he could easily see
how palpably false life is in a great city. To those who have lived in
the abnormal glamour of city life, absolute quiet is a kind of new
excitement.
Warrington found that he was a bit stiff from the long ride.
Patty, however, rode nearly every day; so she was but slightly
fatigued.
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