It was the first week of October; a cold wind rustled the yellowing plane trees, and open-air seats offered no strong temptation.

The two conversed as they walked along.

Polly had not mentioned in her letter any special reason for wishing to see Mr.Gammon, nor did she hasten to make known her discovery.
"Why do you wear a 'at like that on a Sunday ?" she began by asking, tartly.
"Because it's comfortable, I suppose," answered Gammon, reflecting for the first time that it was not very respectful to come to this rendezvous in a "bowler." Polly had never mentioned the matter before, though she had thought about it.

"You like the chimney-pot better ?" "Why, of course I do.

On a Sunday, too, who wouldn't ?" "I'll bear it in mind, my dear.