Glad, chirruping bird-notes called to one another, and a couple of partridges ran across the lawn.
John Derringham took in the lines of Halcyone's graceful person as she walked ahead.

She had that same dignity of movement from the hips which the Nike of Samothrace seems to be advancing with as you come up the steps of the Louvre.
How tall she had grown! She must be at least five feet nine or ten.

But why would she not speak?
He overawed her here in the daylight, and she felt silent and oppressed.
"Whereabouts is our tree that we sat in when I was young and you were old ?" he asked, after they had got through the gap in the hedge.

A little gate had been put in the last years to keep out the increasing herd of deer.
"It is over there by the copse," she said shyly.

"The lower branch fell last winter, and it makes a delightful seat.