"When," asked Mr. Crombie's secretary, "are you going to start cleaning out your desk?" And with that thunderbolt, Mr. Graham Crombie, president of the best investment-counsel company in the country, suddenly realized that he was being told to run away and play—thanks to the retirement clause in the pension plan he had himself devised. What to do? Well, what does everybody else do? Move to the country of course! It would be idyllic. Gardening, reading, tinkering, long visits from the grandchildren. The future held rich promise! How, and in what hilarious and poignant particulars the gods willed otherwise is what Mr. Crombie discovers.