Chapter 102

They went out and walked. It was clear and frosty, and the beech leaves were crisp under their feet, and beyond the fretwork of black boughs were great gouts of blue. The very air had a quiet candour. And treading among the dead bracken, or following the grass tracks between the green furze banks, with the sun aslant upon the heave of the hillside, they seemed to walk into a new awareness of each other. It was not expressed. Largely it was inexpressible. Lance did not arrive at the conclusion that his father had co…