cliff-paths for an hour, pausing now and again to lean his back
against an out-cropping mass of rock and pass the back of his hand
across his eyes, that at first were bloodshot with fury. He had a
great desire to kill Policeman Rat-it-all. As his passion died down
and he limped forward, to pause and again limp forward, his gait and
the backward cast of his eye were not unlike those of a hunted hare.

He reached the house door at nightfall, just as Mrs Penhaligon came
shepherding her offspring home down the dusky street, 'Biades had
yielded to the sleep of exhaustion, and lay like a log in his
mother's arms. 'Bert, for no other reason than that he had tired
himself out, was sulky and uncommunicative. But 'Beida--whose whole
manner ever changed when once she had been persuaded into fine
clothes--wore an air of sustained gentility.

"Squire Tresawna keeps seven gardeners," she reported. "He has three
motor-cars and two chauffeurs. The gardeners keep the front lawn so
short with their mowing-machines that 'Biades couldn't possibly have
made the front of his blouse in the mess it is unless he had
purposely crawled on his stomach to lower me in the eyes of all.
When it got to a certain point I pretended to have no connection with
him. There was nothing else to do. Then he felt sorry and wanted to
hug me in front of everybody. . . . Oh, thank you . . . yes, I've
enjoyed myself very much! Mrs Tresawna wears a toque: but I suppose
that when you get to a certain position you can carry on with toques
long after every one else has given them up. She has two maids; one
of them in a grey velours dress that must have been one of Mrs
Tresawna's cast-offs, for it couldn't possibly have come out of her
wages; though, by the fit, it might have been made for her."