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The Man On Putney Hill
"Whywereyouwalkingaboutthecommon,"Isaid,"insteadofbeinghere?"
"Takingtheair,"hesaid."Iwascomingback.It’ssaferbynight."
"Butthework?"
"Oh,onecan’talwayswork,"hesaid,andinaflashIsawthemanplain. Hehesitated,holdinghisspade. "Weoughttoreconnoitrenow,"hesaid, "becauseifanycomeneartheymayhearthespadesanddropuponusunawares."
Iwasnolongerdisposedtoobject. Wewenttogethertotheroofandstoodonaladderpeepingoutoftheroofdoor. NoMartiansweretobeseen,andweventuredoutonthetiles,andslippeddownundershelteroftheparapet.
FromthispositionashrubberyhidthegreaterportionofPutney,butwecouldseetheriverbelow,abubblymassofredweed,andthelowpartsofLambethfloodedandred. Theredcreeperswarmedupthetreesabouttheoldpalace,andtheirbranchesstretchedgauntanddead,andsetwithshrivelledleaves,fromamiditsclusters. Itwasstrangehowentirelydependentboththesethingswereuponflowingwaterfortheirpropagation. Aboutusneitherhadgainedafooting; laburnums,pinkmays,snowballs,andtreesofarbor-vitae,roseoutoflaurelsandhydrangeas,greenandbrilliantintothesunlight. BeyondKensingtondensesmokewasrising,andthatandabluehazehidthenorthwardhills.
TheartillerymanbegantotellmeofthesortofpeoplewhostillremainedinLondon.
