"You would not like it," Miss Garland declared reflectively. "Though
there are far finer woods there than this. We have miles and miles of
woods."
"I might chop down trees," said Rowland. "That is, if you allow it."
"Allow it? Why, where should we get our firewood?" Then, noticing that
he had spoken jestingly, she glanced at him askance, though with no
visible diminution of her gravity. "Don't you know how to do anything?
Have you no profession?"
Rowland shook his head. "Absolutely none."
"What do you do all day?"
"Nothing worth relating. That 's why I am going to Europe. There, at
least, if I do nothing, I shall see a great deal; and if I 'm not a
producer, I shall at any rate be an observer."
"Can't we observe everywhere?"
"Certainly; and I really think that in that way I make the most of my
opportunities. Though I confess," he continued, "that I often remember
there are things to be seen here to which I probably have n't done
justice. I should like, for instance, to see West Nazareth."
She looked round at him, open-eyed; not, apparently, that she exactly
supposed he was jesting, for the expression of such a desire was not
necessarily facetious; but as if he must have spoken with an ulterior
motive.
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