Spurling, and her now accepted suitor, resumed their seats. This astute personage was somewhat under the middle size, but fairly proportioned, inclining rather to strength than symmetry, and abounding more in muscle than in flesh. ‘I want a word with you, my lad. Many things were only words, sounds; she could not construct these words and sounds into objects; or, if she did, invariably missed the mark. I’ll be waiting for you outside. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. The chapel was crowded to excess.
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