Chapter 37

The Lance Pybus of the Windover beech woods and Trinity Great Court and the river, had gone the way of Lance the child. Our inwardness changes like our clothes, and in the young man who walked down the Saracen yard the Venerable saw youth on its high horse, a figure still loved, but loved with a difference. Old Pybus was one of those rare persons who can remember themselves in the twenties, just as they were and not as an illusive distance would have them to be. He could remember his own cocksureness, a young arrog…