ABSTRACT
T hea and Mysie were driving out to Long Island to look at a cottage Thea had discovered. They intended to buy it. Mysie hadn’t yet seen it, but she agreed in advance. They had to have some place for week-ends and holidays. They had been saying so for five years, and now suddenly it became imperative. Impossible to put it of another day, another hour. Mysie didn’t much like Long Island, but she knew she would never find a place herself. She wouldn’t know how or where to look. There was a peculiarity in the Eastern landscape. You couldn’t somehow see any distance, or get any idea of what was beyond, except more of the same thing. It was all low hills and short turns. Even the flat stretches of Long Island had no perspective, no horizon.
