sunset--as you said, Angela--they are like trees, and sometimes like
faces, and sometimes like the shadows of little bent gipsies.... I used
to look at the mountains and think: 'What am I about, to be so worried
and so small, in sight of such an enormous storm of mountains under a
gold sky?' I think of those rocks often at night, standing just as we
left them, all by themselves, under that unnatural moon,--it was an
unnatural moon on the edge of the world there,--all by themselves, with
no watching eyes to spoil them, as Pinehurst used to say, not even one's
own eyes.... You'll say that adventure--my one adventure--was
impossible, Meta. Yes, it was. Rrchud was an impossible boy, born on an
impossible day, in an impossible place. Ah, my poor Rrchud.... My dears,
I am talking dretful nonsense. We were mad. You'd have to know
Pinehurst, really, to understand it. Ah, we can never find our mountain
again. I can never forgive Pinehurst...."

"You can never repay Pinehurst," said the witch.

Lady Arabel did not seem to hear. For a long time there was nothing to
be heard but Sarah Brown, murmuring to her Dog David. You must excuse
her, and remember that she lived most utterly alone. She was locked
inside herself, and the solitary barred window in her prison wall
commanded only a view of the Dog David.

Rrchud's mother said at last: "I really came to tell you that Rrchud
came back on leave unexpectedly last night. Of course you must meet
him--"

"Rrchud home!" exclaimed Miss Ford. "How odd! I was just telling Miss
Watkins about his Power, and how strongly she reminded me of him. Do
tell him to keep Wednesday afternoon free."