"Can't you sit still?" asked Gwen after a long pause.
"This chair is very hard, dear."
"So is mine."
"Don't you think we might sit on the bed?"
"Certainly not. I shouldn't sleep a wink if we disarranged the clothes, and only an expert can re-make a chaff bed."
"Wish we had something to read", I remarked, after another long pause.
"Do you expect a circulating library on the top of Ben-y-Gloe?"
I began to realise that Gwen was no longer in a conversational mood, and made no further efforts to break the silence. Half-an-hour later Gwen came across the room and laid her hand on my shoulder. "What are you reading, dear?" she asked.
"I find we can get a train from Struan to-morrow afternoon which catches the London connection at Perth when the train's not more than two hours late."
"We can't risk that. Isn't there a train in the morning?"