“Oh, there’ll be enough. That reminds me of the good dean. Remember him, Walt? He used to talk about taking a ‘perpendicular lunch,’ and he hardly had time to get even that.”
“Remember him? Bless his heart. Remember him? Why, there was more character, real good old earthy character in his old brown hat than in half the faces of the faculty. Well, I guess!”
Unclouded the noon sun lay miles deep in the centre of the pond, radiating a dazzling brilliancy. Swickey shaded her eyes with her hand and gazed across the pond.
“There’s a deer!” she whispered, “just under those cedars, in the water. I wonder what it’s doing here this time of day?”
“Can’t see it,” said Bascomb. “Couldn’t if he was sitting on this log eating lunch with us.”
“It isn’t a he, it’s a doe, and she has a little fawn near her. I can just see him on the edge of the bank.”
David stood up and brushed the crumbs from his clothes. “I’ll get the canoe and paddle up there. It’s down the shore a bit.”
“I’d give anything to have your eyes,” said Bascomb, as David departed. “But seriously, I’d prefer your hand.”
“Is that the way you talk to other girls—in Boston, I mean,” replied Swickey.
“Sometimes. Depends on—well, the girl, you know.”