watching for the neighbour's cart that was to take them, she looked as
full of white budding promise as the may-tree above her.

She did not think very much about Edward, except as a protecting
presence. Reddin's face, full of strong, mysterious misery; the feel of
Reddin's arm as they danced; his hand, hot and muscular, on hers--these
claimed her thoughts. She fought them down, conscious that they were
not suitable in Edward's bride.

At last the cart appeared, coming up the hill with the peculiar
lurching deportment of market carts. The pony had a bunch of marigolds
on each ear, and there was lilac on the whip. They packed the animals
in--the cat giving ventriloquial mews from her basket, the rabbit in
its hutch, the bird in its wooden cage, and Foxy sitting up in front of
Hazel. The harp completed the load. They drove off amid the cheers of
the next-door children, and took their leisurely way through the
resinous fragrance of larch-woods.

The cream-coloured pony was lame, which gave the cart a peculiar roll,
and she was tormented with hunger for the marigolds, which hung down
near her nose and caused her to get her head into strange contortions
in the effort to reach them. The wind sighed in the tall larches, and
once again, as on the day of the concert, they bent attentive heads
towards Hazel. In the glades the wide-spread hyacinths would soon be
paling towards their euthanasia, knowing the art of dying as well as
that of living, fortunate, as few sentient creatures are, in keeping
their dignity in death.

When they drove through the quarry, where deep shadows lay, Hazel
shivered suddenly.