about midday
A long tangle of unavoidable detail for discussion might be improvised by an ingenious man . And the rest of that waking interval passed in such inventions , which became more and more vague and magnificent and familiar as Mr. Brumley lapsed into slumber again ... . Next day the garden essay was still neglected , and he wrote a pretty vague little song about an earthly mourner and a fresh presence that set him thinking of the story of Persephone and how she passed in the springtime up from the shadows again , blessing as she passed ... . He pulled himself together about midday , cycled over to Gorshott for lunch at the clubhouse and a round with Horace Toomer in the afternoon , re-read the poem after tea , decided it was poor , tore it up and got himself down to his little fantasy about Shakespear 's Garden for a good two hours before supper . It was a sketch of that fortunate poet -LRB- whose definitive immortality is now being assured by an influential committee -RRB- walking round his Stratford garden with his daughter , quoting himself copiously with an accuracy and inappropriateness that reflected more credit upon his heart than upon his head , and saying in addition many distinctively Brumley things . When Mrs. Rabbit , with a solicitude acquired from the late Mrs. Brumley , asked him how he had got on with his work -- the sight of verse on his paper had made her anxious -- he could answer quite truthfully , `` Like a house afire . '' It is to be remarked that two facts , usually esteemed as supremely important in the life of a woman , do not seem to have affected Mr. Brumley 's state of mind nearly so much as quite trivial personal details about Lady Harman .