“I like calves, June.”
“Yes, calves are all right. They are so funny when they are young an’ their legs go wobbly.”
He laughed. That was a little more human of her.
“But they are awfully dangerous when they are like that, for the mother is only too ready to attack you, isn’t she?”
“Quite likely. Don’t men fight bulls in Spain or some place like that?”
“Yes, they do. And in England they used to set bulldogs on to bulls, so it’s in their blood. That was why ours went for Crayshaw’s cow. But I should have thought that they ought to stage cat-and-dog fights.”
“Oh?”
Back to cats again. But his arm was in hers, and it was warm there.
“There’s a gate coming.”