"How can he when it's such a great, bare, dreary place ?" "It's the most beautiful place," protested Mary.

"Thousands of lovely things grow on it and there are thousands of little creatures all busy building nests and making holes and burrows and chippering or singing or squeaking to each other.

They are so busy and having such fun under the earth or in the trees or heather.

It's their world." "How do you know all that ?" said Colin, turning on his elbow to look at her.
"I have never been there once, really," said Mary suddenly remembering.
"I only drove over it in the dark.

I thought it was hideous.