"I'd meant to lay up because of my arm, but it's better this morning.

We'll start early and get back for the papers." They motored down to the club-house and played their round.

It was a wonderful spring morning, with a soft west wind blowing from the land.
Little patches of sea lavender gave purple colour to the marshland.
The creeks, winding their way from the sea to the village, shone like quicksilver beneath the vivid sunshine.

It was a morning of utter and complete peace.

Granet notwithstanding a little trouble with his arm, played carefully and well.