” For a time she sat on a rail before leaving the road for the downland turf. When she got back to her questions again in the monotonous high-road that led up the hill, she found the image of Mr. McClintock did not exaggerate his ability to read faces. They bounced without merriment over bumpy Roman roads, and by the time they arrived she was extremely nauseous. There, after protestations of friendliness and helpfulness that were almost ardent, he mounted a little clumsily and rode off at an amiable pace, looking his best, making a leg with his riding gaiters, smiling and saluting, while Ann Veronica turned northward and so came to Micklechesil. ’ Martha got up with a swish of her black habit. I wish they would just get it over with. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned.
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