She nodded to both questions. "Let us go round to the back." The path at the side of the house was dark with shrubs. "I don't like this little bit," she said. "I hardly ever walk on it. It's—"
"What?"
"Oh, they don't come out. They stay there and get unhappy."
"The bushes?"
"The spirits in them."
He walked beside her with his hands behind his back and his head bent.
"You're thinking," she said.
"Yes."
"Don't," she begged, "think away from me."
He stopped, surprised. "I'm not doing that—but why?"