CHAPTER 25Carey and Laura walked across the fields when the day had slipped into afternoon. As far as the light went, it might have been any time between dawn and dusk—low cloud, no visible sun; no colour in sky, or grass, or hedgerow; a desolate greyness everywhere. It was cold. Not with the stinging cold of wind or frost which whips the blood to the cheeks. The wind was all gone, there was no frost. The path was soft and miry. A chilly damp which might be fog by nightfall oozed from the ground and clung about them. But it was better than being indoors. Here at least they could be alone together and could speak freely.
“It’s frightful in the house—like being shut up in the dark, you don’t quite know what’s there.” Laura’s voice was still hushed, as if it hardly realized its freedom. “I w
