“Let’s go,” said he directly.
Mark would not stir till he had finished the gooseberries.
“Tell me the way round the—the—” he was going to say sea, but recollected that they would not be able to understand how he and Mark were on an expedition, nor would he say pond—“round the water,” he said.
“The Longpond?” said the girl. “You can’t go round, there’s the marsh—not unless you goes back to Wood Lane, and nigh handy your place.”
“Which way did ’ee come?” asked the old woman.
“They come through the wood,” said the girl. “I seen um; and they had the spannul.”
She was stroking Pan, who loved her, as she had fed him with a bone. She knew the enormity of taking a strange dog through a wood in the breeding-season.
“How be um going to get whoam?” said the old woman.
“We’re going to walk, of course,” said Bevis.
“It’s four miles.”