"Are you a fussy pessimist ?" "By no means.

Merely--prudent." Philip's eyes narrowed thoughtfully and he fell silent.
The iris shadows beyond the river deepened.

A firefly or so flickered brightly above the fields of clover.

In the soft clear twilight, fragrant with the smell of clover and water lily and rimmed now by the rising moon, Philip found his resolution of the afternoon difficult to utter.

The pool at his feet was a motionless mirror of summer stars.
Surely there could be nothing but peace in this tranquil world of tree and grass and murmuring river.