The Wages of Sin: A Novel

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Excerpt from The Wages of Sin: A Novel
The Rector had refused to have any tea. He leaned back in another wicker chair, his legs crossed, his coat thrown open, and his thumbs stuck in the armholes of his waistcoat, surveying the scene before him with an expres sion of half-contemptuous though not unkindly amusement. Sometimes his eyes wandered from the group in the fore ground to a wide stretch of Open park, dotted with fallow deer, lying north and west below the terraced garden. The park dipped to the left towards a wooded stream in the hollow, and swept up again into breezy hillside, red. And yellow with withering bracken. Beyond it the sea, crossed by wandering tide-lines of the palest azure, spread away calm and Oily, under a sky of filmy white cloud, to the high faint line of the horizon.
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