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rench gardening. There was no room at Broken Ash, and, besides, they must have a walled garden. Building nowadays was such a frightful expense, and suddenly they'd thought of The Lawn. It was sheltered, just the right size, not too far away, and all they had to do was to clear the ground. And Vandy was so impatient that nothing would satisfy him but to start at once. "He'll get tired of it in a day or two," she added artlessly, "but you know what he is."
For an improvised exposition of proceedings so extraordinary, I thought her rendering extremely creditable.
So, I think, did Vandy, for he threw an approving glance in her direction, heaved a sigh of relief, and screwed up his mouth into a sickly smile.
"Took up gardening during the War," he announced. "I--we all did. Any amount of money in it. Quite surprised me. But," he added, warming to his work, "it's the same with gardening as with everything else In this world. The most valuable asset is the personal element. If you want a thing well done, do it yourself. Ha! Ha!"
My brother-in-law looked round, regarding the howling riot of waste.
"And where," he said, "shall you plant the asparagus?"
Vandy started and dropped the sickle. Then he gave a forced laugh.
"You must give us a chance," he said. "We've got a long way to go before we get to that. All this"--he waved an unbusiness-like arm, and his voice faltered--"all this has got to be cleared first."
"I suppose it has," said Berry. "Well, don't mind us. You get on with it. Short of locusts or an earthquake, it's going to be a long job. I suppose you couldn't hire a trench-mortar and shell it for a couple of months?"
Apparently Vandy was afraid to trust his voice, for, after swallowing twice, he recovered the sickle and started to hack savagely at the grass without another word.
With the utmost deliberation, Berry seated himself upon the flagstones and, taking out his case, selected a cigarette. With an equally leisurely air I produced a pipe a