About noon
That he should see him was enough . He could hardly bear to think what Fielding had to say to him . He had risen early , so as to go down into Surrey on his bicycle . About noon he struck into the long golden road that goes straight across the high moor where the great poet had built him a house . Inside his gates , a fork of the road sloped to the shore of a large lake fringed with the crimson heather . The house stood far back on a flat stretch of moor , that looked as if it had been cut with one sweep of a gigantic scythe from the sheltering pine-woods . He saw Fielding far off , standing at the door of his house to welcome him .