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"Why, all my mother's
people come from Veering Hollow. There must be some there
still--the Lashmars. Did you ever hear of them?"
"I remember hearing that name, seems to me," he answered, but his
face was blank as the back of a spade.
A little before dusk a woman in grey, striding like a
foot-soldier, and bearing on her arm a long pole, crashed through
the orchard calling for food. George, upon whom the unannounced
English worked mysteriously, fled to the parlour; but Mrs. Cloke
came forward beaming. Sophie could not escape.
"We've only just heard of it;" said the stranger, turning on her.
"I've been out with the otter-hounds all day. It was a splendidly
sportin' thing "
"Did you--er--kill?" said Sophie. She knew from books she could
not go far wrong here.
"Yes, a dry bitch--seventeen pounds," was the answer. "A
splendidly sportin' thing of you to do. Poor old Iggulden--"
"Oh--that!" said Sophie, enlightened.
"If there had been any people at Pardons it would never have
happened.


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