"We mustn't. That would frighten Mamma."

"Well, then, we'll have to go straight through."

They went, slowly, between the rows of mounds, along a narrow path of
yellow clay that squeaked as their boots went in and out. Roddy held her
hand. They took care not to tread on the graves. Every step brought them
nearer to the funeral. They hadn't pointed it out to each other. They had
pretended it wasn't there. Now it was no use pretending; they could see
the coffin.

"Roddy--I can't--I can't go past the funeral."

"We've got to."

He looked at her with solemn eyes, wide open in his beautiful face. He
was not really frightened, he was only trying to be because he liked it.

They went on. The tight feeling under her waist had gone; her body felt
loose and light as if it didn't belong to her; her knees were soft and
sank under her. Suddenly she let go Roddy's hand. She stared at the
funeral, paralysed with fright.

At the end of the path Mamma and Aunt Lavvy stood and beckoned to them.
Aunt Lavvy was coming towards them, carrying her white flower cross. They
broke into a stumbling, nightmare run.

The bare clay plain stretched on past the place where Mamma and Aunt
Lavvy had turned. The mounds here were big and high. They found Mamma and
Aunt Lavvy standing by a very deep and narrow pit. A man was climbing up