Fleur looked straight before her, and chanted:
"Jon, Jon, the farmer's son,
Stole a pig, and away he run!"
Jon's arm crept round her waist.
"This is rather sudden," said Fleur calmly; "do you often do it?"
Jon dropped his arm. But when she laughed, his arm stole back again; and Fleur began to sing:
"O who will o'er the downs so free,
O who will with me ride?
O who will up and follow me—"
"Sing, Jon!"
Jon sang. The larks joined in, sheep-bells, and an early morning church far away over in Steyning. They went on from tune to tune, till Fleur said:
"My God! I am hungry now!"
"Oh! I AM sorry!"