Felix passed them and turned to look.

Yes, it was they! He stopped the car.

They were walking, with eyes straight before them, frowning.

And Felix thought: 'Nothing of Tod in either of them; regular Celts!' The girl's vivid, open face, crisp, brown, untidy hair, cheeks brimful of color, thick lips, eyes that looked up and out as a Skye terrier's eyes look out of its shagginess--indeed, her whole figure struck Felix as almost frighteningly vital; and she walked as if she despised the ground she covered.

The boy was even more arresting.