Explore "Divots" by P.G. Wodehouse on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The side-door leading into the smoking-room opened, and the golf-club's popular and energetic secretary came trotting down the steps on to the terrace above the ninth green. As he reached the gravel, a wandering puff of wind blew the door to with a sharp report, and the Oldest Member, who had been dozing in a chair over his _Wodehouse on the Niblick_, unclosed his eyes, blinking in the strong light. He perceived the secretary skimming to and fro like a questing dog.
"You have lost something? " he inquired, courteously.