A tourist caravan of four pole-chairs jogged along a narrow street. '" "Slave?" echoed Jack. Did the other girls thank you?” “Not really. ‘So yours is the rattling tongue, is it, young madam?’ ‘I should say so. Beyond was a field sloping steeply upwards, and at the top a small pine plantation. “May I ask whether you are staying with friends in town?” he inquired deferentially. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. During this dreadful pause the wretched man felt for his sword. “What do you mean?” Lucy asked.
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