"Good-bye, Josephine," said Connie, kissing the baby and ruffling its red, wispy hair.
Mrs. Flint insisted on opening the locked and barred front door. Connie emerged in the farm's little front garden, shut in by a privet hedge. There were two rows of auriculas by the path, very velvety and rich.
"Lovely auriculas," said Connie.
"Recklesses, as Luke calls them," laughed Mrs. Flint. "Have some."
And eagerly she picked the velvet and primrose flowers.
"Enough! Enough!" said Connie.
They came to the little garden gate.
"Which way were you going?" asked Mrs. Flint.
"By the warren."
"Let me see! Oh yes, the cows are in the gin close. But they're not up yet. But the gate's locked, you'll have to climb."