There was an army of flies on the screen door of the kitchen and on several galvanized iron bins stuffed with ginger-ale bottles and orange peel.
"We'll leave the car here," said Harry, "and go and have a look for the cottage.

It'll be easy to find.

There aren't many of 'em, if I remember right." Joan took his arm.

She had begun to tremble.

"Let's go this way first," she said, going the right way by instinct.
"If they're in," said Harry, "and I should guess they are .-- there's no wind,--I'll draw old Howard off for an hour or so." "Yes, please do, Harry." And they went up the sandy incline, over the thick undergrowth, and the sun blazed down on the shining water, and half a dozen canvas-covered catboats near the little pier.