He swung his leg over the stile, and
went along the path through the trees where he had followed Norah
yesterday.
He had not intended to leave the highroad, but it was as if that dead
man's girls had driven him into the wood to get away from their shyly
questioning eyes. He might meet them again if he stayed out there. In
here he could be alone with his thoughts.
To-day there was plenty of sunlight, and instead of turning off the
path he went straight on to the main ride. This too was bright with
sunshine, a splendid broad avenue that was shut close on either side
by the thickly planted firs; the mossy track seeming soft as a bed,
and the sky like an immensely high canopy of delicate blue gauze. A
heron crossed quickly but easily, making only three flaps of its
powerful wings before it disappeared; there was an unceasing hum of
insects; and two wood-cutters came by and wished Dale good afternoon
and touched their weather-stained hats.
"Good afternoon," he said, in a friendly tone. "A bit cooler and
pleasanter to-day, isn't it?"
"You're right, sir. 'Bout time too."
Then he walked on, alone with his thoughts again, along the wide
sunlit ride toward Kibworth Rocks; and a phrase kept echoing in his
ears, sounding as if he said it aloud.
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