“And half are on one side, and half on the other,” said Dolly, regretfully.
A sudden impulse seized me. I got up, put on my straw hat, took off my coat, walked out into the sun, and began to move flower pots across the broad terrace. I heard a laugh from Archie, a little cry from Dolly, and from Nellie Phaeton, “Goodness, what’s he doing that for?” I was not turned from my purpose. The luncheon bell rang. Miss Phaeton, whip and twine in hand, walked into the house. Archie followed her, saying as he passed that he hoped I shouldn’t find it warm. I went on shifting the flower pots. They were very heavy. I broke two, but I went on. Presently Dolly put up her parasol and came out from the shade to watch me. She stood there for a moment or two. Then, she said:
“Well, do you think you’d like it, Mr. Carter?”
“Wait till I’ve finished,” said I, waving my hand.
Another ten minutes saw the end of my task. Panting and hot I sought the shade, and flung myself onto my deck chair again. I also lit a cigarette.
“I think they looked better on the other side, after all,” said Dolly meditatively.
“Of course you do,” said I urbanely. “You needn’t tell me that”
“Perhaps you’d like to move them back,” she suggested.
“No,” said I. “I’ve done enough to create the impression.”
“And how did you like it?”