"
"Well, well!" laughed Winter. "Your ideas and mine clash in some
respects. I look on a well-grilled steak as a gift from Heaven, and after
it, or before it--I don't care which--let me have three hours whipping a
good trout stream. With the right cast of flies I could show a fine bag
from this very stretch of water."
"Why not ask Mr. Grant's permission? It would be interesting to learn
whether he will allow others to try their luck."
Mr. Siddle strolled on. Winter bent over, keen to discern the gray-backed
fish which must be lurking in those clear depths and rippling shallows.
CHAPTER XIV
ON BOTH SIDES OF THE BIVEE
The sun, transmuted into Greenwich time, exercised an extraordinary
influence on the seemingly humdrum life of Steynholme that day. A few
minutes after three o'clock--just too late to observe either Winter or
Siddle--P.C. Robinson strolled forth from his cottage. He glanced up the
almost deserted high-street, in which every rounded cobble and white
flagstone radiated heat. A high-class automobile had dashed past twice in
forty minutes, but the pace was on the borderland of doubt, so the
guardian of the public weal had contented himself with recording its
number on the return journey.
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