Zita knew enough, and she shuddered at the thought that she was enjoying the hospitality of a murderer.
CHAPTER XII
ON BONE RUNNERS
'HEIGH! Cheap Jack girl!'
Zita was out enjoying the crisp, frosty air, on the frozen soil, sparkling under the winter sun.
The November frost had continued, and canals and rivers were iced over as well as dykes and drains. God's plough was in the soil—that is what country folk say when the frost cuts deep into the earth. Where God's plough has been, there golden harvests are turned up to gladden all sorts and conditions of men, and golden harvests turn to metallic gold in the pockets of the farmers.
Every fen man, woman, and child can skate. As soon as a child has found its legs, it essays to slide, and when it can slide, it attempts to skate. Fen skating is inelegant. Speed alone is considered, and legs and arms fly about in all directions. With scorn does the fen-man contemplate the figuring of the fine gentleman on the ice.