There was an open glade close by, where they could squat in the sunshine, and let the breeze help the process.

Mary had had the forethought to put a comb in her pocket and she lent it round in turns.

They were sitting in a row, like five mermaids, extremely complacent and satisfied with themselves, when footsteps suddenly crashed through the wood, and a middle-aged man approached them.

For once Beatrice's calculations were wrong.

The gamekeeper had not yet enlisted.