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Show 222 shops. The Wilsons and Parkers packed sandwiches and climbed the hill behind the hotel. The forest was as clean as a park; dead limbs had been carted away, and they met a couple of old women, bent almost to the ground through a lifetime of carrying, burdened down with loads. The paths were cool, though in the clearings the sun beat down with a ripe summer fullness, and flies droneri. Reaching a point that opened onto the bay on one side and a green miniature valley on the other, they sat down in a grove of maples to sat their lunch. "Lovely," said Louise. Hal sat back, closed his eyes and let the sun caress his face. "Ah, the army. Hazardous duty." Sid merely grunted, and Hal opened his eyes. "Will you stay?" "No. I've had it. When this hitch is up I'm gone." "Why?" Hal stretched luxuriously. "How else can you sit in the sun and eat Spam sandwiches?" Sid shrugged. "It's got its attractions -- travel, security, leisure. But." Hal waited, and as the silence continued: "Too many colonels?" Again Sid shrugged. "Can't have an army without colonels." "I could do without this colonel." "And," said Phyllis, "this colonel's wife." The name seemed to cast a pall, and they sat still. In a moment Louise spoke up. "Wonder what she was like." |