His life
was not confining and the delight he took in this observation could not be
explained by its suggestion of escape. He seemed to see, with a cartographer’s
eye, that string of swimming pools, that quasi-subterranean stream that curved
across the county. He had made a discovery, a contribution to modern geography;
he would name the stream Lucinda after his wife. He was not a practical joker
nor was he a fool but he was determinedly original and had a vague and modest
idea of himself as a legendary figure. The day was beautiful and it seemed to
him that a long swim might enlarge and celebrate its beauty.
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