Her eyes were fixed upon a figure approaching through the wood.
"You really aren't respectable, Philippa," she declared.

"Throw away your cigarette, for heaven's sake, and sit up.

Some one is coming." Philippa only moved her head lazily.

The sunlight, which came down in a thousand little zigzags through the wind-tossed trees, fell straight upon her rather pale, defiant little face, with its unexpressed evasive charm, and seemed to find a new depth of colour in the red-gold of her disordered hair.

Her slim, perfect body was stretched almost at full length, one leg drawn a little up, her hands carelessly drooping towards the grass.