Explore "The Old Wives' Tale" by Arnold Bennett on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
On a hot day in August, just before they were to leave Bursley for a month in the Isle of Man, Cyril came home, pale and perspiring, and dropped on to the sofa. He wore a grey alpaca suit, and, except his hair, which in addition to being very untidy was damp with sweat, he was a masterpiece of slim elegance, despite the heat. He blew out great sighs, and rested his head on the antimacassared arm of the sofa.
"Well, mater," he said, in a voice of factitious calm, "I've got it. " He was looking up at the ceiling.