They walked slowly up the scrubby avenue to the house.

Once Granet paused to look down at the long arm of the sea on his left.
"You have quite a river there," he remarked.
She nodded.
"That used to be the principal waterway from Burnham village.

Quite a large boat can get down now at high tide." They entered the house and Isabel gave a little gesture of dismay.

She clutched for a moment at Granet's arm.

An elderly man, dressed in somber black clothes disgracefully dusty, collarless, with a mass of white hair blown all over his face, was walking up and down the hall with a great pair of horn-rimmed spectacles clutched in his hand.