and you'll enjoy yourself. John, the other side for you. I find you charming, John. There's something so fresh and wholesome about you Wall Street men after a week-end in the country. The country is so perverse, nothing normal about it at all. The boy who took care of the cows had jaundice.
You're a duck, Cam—Mrs. Lorillard, John laughed. Let's do a scenic railway in the same seat.
Game! This long one. She pointed to a great structure, waving up and down cross country on incredibly tall stilts. They entered the gateway and booked places. As they swung and pitched down the headlong descents, she grasped him first by the arms, then round the shoulders, leaning against him, and, while he was only mildly thrilled by the motion—he had been an ace in the army—, her magnetic propinquity proved more unsettling. At the end of the ride, she removed the withered geraniums from her belt and tossed them away.
I'll get you some more: Harold was beside her again.
No more flowers today, she announced decisively, but thank you, Harold. . . . She turned to John: With you next to me, I'd like to do that over.
Game! he echoed her earlier refrain.
She laughed. We'll try another sport.
They stood before a small, brightly decorated wooden structure, in front of which, stretched on ropes, a dozen rudely painted banners informed
