Helen was lying prone in a green linen chair; her garden hat was bent over her eyes and she seemed to doze.

Franklin sat on the grass in front of Althea, just outside the radius of shadow, clasping his thin knees with his thin hands.

He looked at his worst out of doors, on a lawn and under trees.

He was typically civic.

Even with his attempts to adapt his clothes to rural requirements, he was out of place.