Out of a clear sky the sun beat down upon the car and the brown sand of the narrow road.

Many times the boy shot sidelong glances at the silent girl beside him, burning to ask questions about this husband who was never mentioned and who appeared to him to be something of a myth and a mystery.

He didn't love Joan, because it had been mutually agreed that he shouldn't.

But he held her in the sort of devoted affection which, when it exists between a boy and a girl, is very good and rare and even beautiful and puts them close to the angels.
Presently, catching one of these deeply concerned glances, she put her little shoulder against his shoulder in a sisterly way.

"Go on, then, Harry," she said.