“This way, if you please.”
Mr Samuels was already heading into the interior. We followed: Cass, then Violet and then myself, bringing up the rear. Violet’s shorts were really very short and her white legs really very white. Violet and I struggled with the undergrowth whilst Cass and Mr Samuels strode on unhindered. Perhaps it was merely a matter of footwear. Violet was hardly shod for a hike, and I was in the shoes I always wore come hill or dale, though rarely on hill or in dale, in truth. They were the best part of me, my shoes. Quite where they had come from or when I couldn’t say, but they were undeniably hardwearing and had answered every occasion I had put them too. So perhaps now it was my unaccustomed feet rather than my well-adjusted shoes that were the problem. Anyway, we manage
