’ ‘For shame, Hilary,’ admonished his fiancée, casting a pitying glance at the refugees. She gathered stones to place upon the makeshift grave. ‘His granddaughter?’ ‘Yes, his son’s daughter. And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. "Ah!" he exclaimed, as the painting was turned towards him. "Poor Mrs. Thing's upset you a bit. And let ush go back to our brandewyn, and hollandsche genever. If you choose to requite me by detaining me, you are at liberty to do so. A moment before, the surface of the stream was black as ink.
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