"Well, your right hand can't bore you, certainly."
"Some of the things that it has done have bored me. But let's go to Chilcombe again—not in the car—but just tramp it as we did before. How often have you been there since we went?"
She considered.
"Twice, I think. My friends there left ten years ago and my girl friend died. I haven't been there since I grew up."
"Well, come this afternoon."
"It's going to rain, Ray."
"Since when did rain frighten you?"
"I'd love to come."
"A walk will do me good," he said. "I'm getting jolly lazy."
"So father thinks. He hates motors—says they are going to make the next generation flabby and good-for-nothing."