And her next question took him off his guard.
"You city folk don't think much of yourselves, do you?"
"I don't exactly understand what you mean," said Peter politely, marking the satirical note.
"To think you can make these trees grow better!" she sniffed.
"Oh, I'm just going to help them to help themselves."
"That's God's job, Master."
Peter smiled. She wouldn't have understood, he thought, so what was the use of explaining. There must have been a superior quality in Peter's smile, for the girl put on her hat and came down into the road.
"I'm goin' to Black Rock," she said stiffly, "follow me." And she went off with a quick stride down the road.
Peter Nichols took up his bag and started, with difficulty getting to a place beside her.
"If you don't mind," he said, "I'd much rather walk with you than behind you."