Explore "The Leopard's Spots" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was not, however, on the cards of the gods that Montagu Stagg was destined to pass his usual placid Sunday in congenial peace. On that day, as a rule, he played no golf, he wrote a few private letters, then strolled over to the Club House to look at the Sunday papers and pass the time of day with his friends and neighbours. He usually turned himself out very nicely, neat grey flannels, with a quiet stripe in them, patent leathers and white spats, all of which added to that air of distinction of his, so that people, as a rule, rather liked to be seen on good terms with Montagu Stagg.
On this occasion, however, he ran almost into the arms of Everard Stokes, the caustic editor of the 'Searchlight,' who had driven over in his car. Like most celebrities, he was a member of the Minchin Common Golf Club, and passed an occasional Sunday there. In his shabby Knickerbockers and ragged old shooting coat he made a fine contrast to Stagg.