Thursday, June 21, 2012


   "The way to Rushmere Abbey lay at first by a shaded lane, then a footpath led through fields.
   "It isn't a good country for cowslips," said David, "but we have everything else.  Fritillaries are an absolute pest hereabouts.  Look there."
   Not far from the stream which bordered the meadow, a number of the snake-headed flowers, white and purple, rose among the grass.  Mary knelt down to look at them, fingering one or two, but not plucking them.
   "Do you know what I'd like, David?" she said, "I'd like a lot of shoes, exactly like these lovely snake-skin creatures.  White shoes and purple shoes."

No comments:

Post a Comment