The Professor's House
"I came over to get you to go to the electrician's
with me, Godfrey, but I won't make you. Scott
wants you to run out to the lake, and it's such a fine
day, you really should go."
"Car's outside. We'll just drop Lillian at the house, Doctor, and you can pick up your bathing- suit. We heard part of your lecture, by the way. How you get by the Methodists is still a mystery to me."
"I wish he would get into trouble, Scott," said Lillian as they left the building. "I wish he wouldn't talk to those fat-faced boys as if they were intelligent beings. You cheapen yourself, Godfrey. It makes me a little ashamed."
"I was rather rambling on to-day. I'm sorry you happened along. There's a fellow in that lot, Tod Miller, who isn't slow, and he excites me to controversy."
"All the same," murmured his wife, "it's hardly dignified to think aloud in such company. It's in rather bad taste."
"Thank you for the tip, Lillian. I won't do it again."
It took Scott only twenty minutes to get out to the lake. He drew up at the bit of beach St. Peter had bought for himself years before; a little triangle of sand running out into the water, with a bath-house and seven shaggy pine-trees on it.
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