CHAPTER XXXIIIan acquiesced promptly when Jean asked him if they mightn't take the short cut to Windlestraws across the moor. 'You could have the car,' he added a moment later. She wondered afterwards if this was what he would have preferred; but it was too late to retreat. Was he afraid of the May night, of the familiar walk, of his old memories? He didn't look afraid, on the contrary he looked particularly kind and reassuring; but just before she left him to dress for dinner, he said with his back turned towards her: 'If you don't mind--I don't think I should wear blue!'
It was a wonderful evening for a walk. The moor stretched away on either side of them, limitless and bland; the sky was a stupendous field of darkness hung with golden worlds. They strolled in silence over the short tur
