And away in the distance there was the baying of Martin's hounds.

But where was Martin?
XI "Rather beg than work, wouldn't he?
I call him Micawber because he's always waiting for something to turn up." Joan wheeled round.

To hear a stranger's voice in a place that was peculiarly hers and Martin's amazed and offended her.

It was unbelievable.
A girl was sitting in the long grass, hatless, with her hands clasped round her knees.

The sun lit up her bobbed hair that shone like brass and had touched her white skin with a warm finger.