Though where they were, the veranda running between the end of the Old Humpey and the new house, made a kind of passage so that they were in shadow, there was a possibility of watchful eyes discovering their whereabouts.
'Will you go back to your room, and I'll get rid of these goats,' he said, trying to speak in a matter-of-fact way.

'I supose there isn't a yard where I could put them, nearer than their own by the lagoon.' 'I don't think so,' she answered dully, and without stirring from where she crouched upon the steps.

When he urged her anew to go back to bed, she answered petulantly: 'Oh, do let me be.

I like the wind and the rain--they're soothing.

And I couldn't sleep now until I know that Wombo is safe in the scrub.' He made no further protest, but set to work shepherding the goats.