' So I go to Patagonia. Used to play together, we did, all over Remenham House. “Anna! What tragedy has happened, little sister? No lights, no supper, no coffee —and, above all, no Mr. Fly! they shall knock me on the head—curse 'em!—before they shall touch you. Sheppard raised her hand, and the malediction trembled upon her tongue. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. ‘But my poor Jacques is wounded and—’ ‘All taken care of,’ interrupted Hilary.
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