Reseña del libro "Man and Maid (en Inglés)"
From four to seven I lay awake, the prey of a growing detestation of bicycling tours, friends, scenery, physical exertion, holidays. By seven o'clock I felt that I would rather perish than spend another day in the society of the other man-an excellent fellow, by the way, and the best of company. At half-past seven the post came. I saw the postman through my window as I shaved. I went down to get my letters-there were none, naturally. At breakfast I said: "Edmundson, my dear fellow, I am extremely sorry; but my letters this morning compel me to return to town at once." "But I thought," said Edmundson-then he stopped, and I saw that he had perceived in time that this was no moment for reminding me that, having left no address, I could have had no letters. He looked sympathetic, and gave me what there was left of the bacon. I suppose he thought that it was a love affair or some such folly. I let him think so; after all, no love affair but would have seemed wise compared with the blank idiocy of this sudden determination to cut short a delightful holiday and go back to those dusty, stuffy rooms in Gray's Inn..
