[CHAPTER XXII]
AN END AND A BEGINNING
No doubt the groundsman at the Oval rubbed his hands together with satisfaction when he looked out of his bedroom window on the following morning. It was not particularly warm; indeed he must have shivered as he stood with his shaving brush in his hand, looking at the sky instead of at his mirror. But the sky was blue and the sun was shining, and he would, no doubt, be warm enough after he had sent down a couple of overs at the nets. The thoughts of Roland as he surveyed the bright spring morning were not dissimilar. He saw in it a happy augury. Summer was beginning.
They were a silent party at breakfast; each was preoccupied with his own affairs. They had decided to leave Charing Cross at twelve-thirty-five by a train that reached Hogstead at half-past one; the service was fixed for two o'clock. They would not need to leave the house till a quarter to twelve. They had therefore three hours to put in.
"Now, I suggest," said Gerald, "that you should come down with me to the barber's and have a shave."
"But I've shaved already."
"I daresay you have, but on a day like this one can't shave too often."
And Roland, in spite of his protests, was led down to the shop. Once there, Gerald refused to be satisfied with a mere shave.