"Look at the view on your left." She turned her head obediently and gave a little exclamation of delight. The high hedge had suddenly ended, leaving only a wide expanse of meadows that sloped down to a 147 river flowing at the bottom of a high wooded hill.
Some women in picturesque cotton frocks were tossing the hay in one of the meadows, and the scent of it was wafted through the sunshine.
Marie clasped her hands like a delighted child.
"I did so hope we should see them making hay," she said. "Oh, do you think we might go and help?"
She had forgotten their previous serious conversation, to Feathers' infinite relief. He laughed as he answered that he did not think they could very well suggest giving any assistance.
"I want to take you much further, too," he said. "I know an inn where we can get a lunch fit for a king, and any amount of cream and things like that."
"I love cream," said Marie.
She leaned back beside him contentedly, and fell into a day dream. The easy droning of the engine was very soothing, and the soft air on her face seemed to blow away all the cobwebs and perplexities that had worried her during the past two months. For a little time she gave herself up to the restfulness of it all and the simple enjoyment.
Feathers let her alone. He was not a talkative man, and he only spoke now and again to point out some exquisite bit of scenery or tell her something of the surrounding country.
"You know it well, then?" she asked, and he said that he and Chris had often motored that way together.