Chapter 80

Lance turned from the highroad into the lane which led up past “Marions” to the Woolshot woods. He had come down from Castle Craven to stretch his legs and to do some thinking, for if Old Pybus saw certain things as in a glass darkly, Lance saw them not at all. It may be as difficult to tell just when an apple will fall as to say when curiosity merges into interest. To begin with, the “Marions” lane might be no more to Lance than a green lane in September, the shaggy hedges closing in a steepish ascent, a green cle…