Lewis, I'll give your aunt five minutes, and then I shall go down and drink that pool dry." Lewis sat up and watched the narrow ribbon of road which coiled up the glen to the pool's edge.

He only saw some hundreds of yards down it, but the prospect served to convince him that his erratic aunt was late.
"If my wishes had any effect," said George, "at this moment I should be having iced champagne." And he cast a longing eye to the hampers.
"You won't get any," said Lewis.

"We are not sybarites in this glen, and our drinks are the drinks of simple folk.

Do you remember Cranstoun?
I once went stalking with him, and we had _pate-de-foie-gras_ for luncheon away up on the side of a rugged mountain.

That sort of thing sets my teeth on edge." "Honest man!" cried George.