A few fallow deer moved quietly down there, ruddy spots against the turf.
Duane, carrying his glass with him, rose and stepped across the strip of grass to her side, and, glancing askance at her, was on the point of speaking when he discovered that her eyes were shut and her face colourless and rigid.
"What is it ?" he asked surprised.

"Are you feeling faint, Geraldine ?" She opened her eyes, velvet dark and troubled, but did not turn around.
"It's nothing," she answered calmly.

"I was thinking of several things." "You look so white----" "I am perfectly well.

Bend over the parapet with me, Duane.

Look at those rocks down there.