“Yes, darling. I am here,” Frances answered, and made room for her in the seat.
Ruth mounted the step, and in a moment nestled in beside her. “I gathered these flowers for you,” she said.
“Thank you, darling.” Frances took the flowers and stooped to kiss her.
“I’ve been waiting for you a long, long time,” Ruth said. “Have you liked your drive?”
“I have loved it,” Frances said with simplicity.
“Thank you,” said Arthur quietly, on the other side.
They passed on through the great circle and out between the stones on to a narrow track that led steeply downwards to a lane.
The buzz of a car rose from below them as they approached it, and Arthur drew in his horse. The car went by unseen, but to Frances in the high cart there came a sudden, sharp sense of insecurity that was almost panic, and for a moment she ceased to breathe. She knew that car.
Her agitation subsided gradually. They went on down the lane and turned into the corn-field.
“I must leave you here,” Arthur said.