Bővebb ismertető
chapter one A Fellow-Trcweller
England!
England after many years!
How was he going to like it?
Luke Fitzwilliam asked himself that question as he walked down the gang-plank to the dock. It was present at the back of his mind all through the wait in the Customs' shed. It came suddenly to the fore when he was finally seated in the boat-train.
England on leave was one thing. Plenty of money to blue (to begin with anyway!), old friends to look up, meetings with other fellows home like himself—a carefree atmosphere of "Well, it won't be long. Might as well enjoy myself! Soon be going back."
But now there was no question of going back. No more of the hot stifling nights, no more blinding sun and tropical beauty of rich vegetation, no more lonely evenings reading and re-reading old copies of The Times.
Here he was, honourably retired on a pension, with some small private means of his own, a gentleman of leisure, come home to England. What was he going to do with himself?
England! England on a June day, with a grey sky and a sharp biting wind. Nothing welcoming about her on a day Hke this! And the people! Heavens, the people! Crowds of them, all with grey faces like the sky—anxious worried faces. The houses, too, springing up everywhere like mushrooms. Nasty little houses! Revolting litde houses! Chicken coops in the grandiose manner all over the countryside!
With an eflFort Luke Fitzwilliam averted his eyes from the landscape outside the railway carriage window and settled down to a perusal of the papers he had just bought. The Times, the Daily Clarion oxid Punch.
He started with the Daily Clarion. The Clarion given over entirely to Epsom.
7