The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom. ” She laughed softly. Away off in the fields the bluesmocked peasants bent still at their toil. Her hair touched water, becoming like the seaweed in its velvet slickness. ” “Try what?” She asked, coolly assessing his lithe hips. ” They loitered under trees, they sat on mossy banks they gossiped on friendly benches, they came back to lunch at the “Star and Garter,” and talked their afternoon away in the garden that looks out upon the crescent of the river.
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