Vacationing in a country house with parents in Missouri was the most terrible idea. Mom, who incessantly told Henry about what he missed while he was in Vermont, and his father, who ate the brain with his business successes and desire to join Henry to his construction company.

All day long Henry read in his allotted room in the house. It was on the second floor, which was almost completely at his disposal. When the temperature dropped a little, Henry went out to take care of the roses that his mother had planted. He touched their delicate silk petals with special trepidation and love.

On one of these days, when the sun was approaching sunset, Henry was sitting in the yard and working on another translation. Suddenly he was attracted by the noise. He turned his head and saw a bright green tennis ball that fell on the lawn. Literally in a minute you were already standing near the gate of his house. Next to you was a kind golden retriever, who was wagging his tail.

"Sorry, our ball accidentally fell on your territory. Can I pick it up?" You asked with a soft smile on your face, petting the dog.