"I'll see. What a lot you do think of Evelyn, to be sure!"
"Anyone would! If I had such a sister—"
"Well! If you had?"
"I would—Cyril, what's that?"
"Where? What are you looking at?"
"There! Don't you see?"
They had reached the next stile, and Jean stood not far from it, gazing across a wide muddy ditch upon the bank below the hedge.
"A bird—look! It's a robin. I can see its red breast. It has been hurt."
"It's not a nestling. Too big."
"Then some horrid boy has thrown a stone. Hark! You can hear it 'peep.' Poor little thing! It is almost too weak to move. I must get it."