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Do
walk
down
to
the
cottage
with
us
,
Hilda
,
Connie
pleaded
.
It
s
not
far
.
What
about
the
car
?
People
do
leave
them
on
the
lanes
.
You
have
the
key
.
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Hilda
was
silent
,
deliberating
.
Then
she
looked
backwards
down
the
lane
.
Can
I
back
round
the
bush
?
she
said
.
Oh
yes
!
said
the
keeper
.
She
backed
slowly
round
the
curve
,
out
of
sight
of
the
road
,
locked
the
car
,
and
got
down
.
It
was
night
,
but
luminous
dark
.
The
hedges
rose
high
and
wild
,
by
the
unused
lane
,
and
very
dark
seeming
.
There
was
a
fresh
sweet
scent
on
the
air
.
The
keeper
went
ahead
,
then
came
Connie
,
then
Hilda
,
and
in
silence
.
He
lit
up
the
difficult
places
with
a
flash
-
light
torch
,
and
they
went
on
again
,
while
an
owl
softly
hooted
over
the
oaks
,
and
Flossie
padded
silently
around
.
Nobody
could
speak
.
There
was
nothing
to
say
.
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At
length
Connie
saw
the
yellow
light
of
the
house
,
and
her
heart
beat
fast
.
She
was
a
little
frightened
.
They
trailed
on
,
still
in
Indian
file
.
He
unlocked
the
door
and
preceded
them
into
the
warm
but
bare
little
room
.
The
fire
burned
low
and
red
in
the
grate
.
The
table
was
set
with
two
plates
and
two
glasses
on
a
proper
white
table
-
cloth
for
once
.
Hilda
shook
her
hair
and
looked
round
the
bare
,
cheerless
room
.
Then
she
summoned
her
courage
and
looked
at
the
man
.
He
was
moderately
tall
,
and
thin
,
and
she
thought
him
good
-
looking
.