He was thinking impure thoughts involving a girl from school.

For some strange and elusive reason, the staid, prosaic herringbones have angled themselves into a position of fashion prominence. Most have a rather blendy look in soft tans, olive-tans and grays.

I have learned that there is a person attached to a golf club called a professional. Find out who fills that post at the Green Meadow Club; […] invite the professional, urgently, to dine with us this evening.

Always work quacky land when it is driest.