Page 31 - Where the Dream Ends ebook

The Yellow Peril

row, winding one lane roads hidden from view of other cars by
five-foot stone walls.

After the car ride there were the stories of her college days
at Oxford in the ‘20s with Waugh and the others; her mar-
riage to and divorce from Edmund, scoundrel that he was; the
years driving supply trucks during The War; her marriage to
Edward, a big game hunter, subsequently curator of the Royal
Cocks at Kensington Garden; and God knows what else.

“No, it’s not a deer,” Harry said. “It looks like a gypsy wag-
on, and there are people…”

“Oh yes, that’s right,” she said, disappointed that Harry
had not seen a deer.

“I wonder if it isn’t too early, she said.

“Too early?” Harry asked.

“Too early for deer, of course. If you want to see deer, you
really have to come out just before dusk.”

Harry looked at his wife and shook his head.

“Tissie, what about the gypsy wagon?

“Oh yes, that. It’s mine,” she said.

* * *

As always, Harry had blown things way out of proportion
and getting down from the high seat was much easier than he
expected. He was happy when his feet touched the ground,
however.

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