They drove over the flat country through Crawley and Horsham and came to the wooded roads between high banks where the foliage met overhead, and to the old stone bridges over quiet streams.

Harold Jupp was home from Egypt, Dennis Brown from Salonika, and as the great downs, with their velvet forests, seen now over a thick hedge, now in an opening of branches like the frame of a locket, the marvel of the English countryside in summer paid them in full for their peril and endurance.
"I have a fortnight, Miranda," said Dennis, dropping a hand upon his wife's.

"Think of it!" "My dear, I have been thinking of nothing else for months," she said softly.

Terrors there had been, nights and days of them, terrors there would be, but she had a fortnight now, perfect in its season, and in the meeting of old friends upon familiar ground--a miniature complete in beauty, like the glimpses of the downs seen through the openings amongst the boughs.
"Yes, a whole fortnight," she cried and laughed, and just for a second turned her head away, since just for a second the tears glistened in her eyes.
The car turned and twisted through the puzzle of the Petworth streets and mounted on to the Midhurst road.

The three indefatigable race-goers found Lady Splay sitting with Martin Hillyard in the hall of Rackham Park.
"You had a good day, I hope," she said.
"It was wonderful," exclaimed Dennis Brown.