She was standing on the beach in a blue"-- no, pink--"muslin frock, holding on a big cream"-- no, black--"straw hat.

But it's years ago now." "She's as lovely as ever, more so if anything." Beryl smiled, bit her lip, and gazed over the garden.

As she gazed, she saw somebody, a man, leave the road, step along the paddock beside their palings as if he was coming straight towards her.

Her heart beat.

Who was it?
Who could it be?
It couldn't be a burglar, certainly not a burglar, for he was smoking and he strolled lightly.