Here and there a white birch trunk and a yellow patch of oak leaves shone among the dark firs; the beech hedge was covered by withered brown foliage.

A belt of grass ran between the wood and road and Grace took the little path along its edge.

Her feet made no noise and her tweed dress harmonized with the subdued coloring of dead leaves and trunks.

The light was not good and she thought she would not be visible a short distance off; besides the sportsmen might be at the other side of the wood.

She hoped they were, since she vaguely perceived that if Osborn saw her it would force a crisis she was not yet ready to meet.