” “Surely,” he protested, “the change is all in favour of your own inclinations. ‘Well, I can see you won’t let it alone, so what do you propose to do about the wench?’ ‘I’ll die before I let it alone,’ Gerald vowed. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. There’s no family uniting instinct, anyhow; it’s habit and sentiment and material convenience hold families together after adolescence. He stood still, almost breathless. ‘How famous. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind.
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