Read "The Long Portage" by Harold Bindloss online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Nasmyth's dinner was over and he lay, pipe in hand, in an easy-chair in his smoking-room, with Lisle lounging opposite him. They had been walking up partridges among the higher turnip fields all day, and now both were pleasantly tired and filled with languid good-humor. Nasmyth's house was old -- it had been built out of the remains of a Border pele -- and the room was paneled to the ceiling and very simply furnished. It had an ancient look and an ancient smell, and the few articles of plain oak furniture harmonized with it. The window stood wide open, and the fragrance of a grove of silver firs outside drifted in. The surroundings had their effect on Lisle, who had not been accustomed to dwellings of that kind.
"You have been here a fortnight and must have formed a few opinions about us," Nasmyth remarked at length. "You needn't be shy about expressing them, and I've no doubt there are things you'd like to ask."