Chapter 36

‘Blackthorn and gorst be in blow; you mun make it of blackthorn and gorst, and no gloves on, Gillian. And when the blood runs down your hands, you mun say: “I helped to kill Mr. Gentle the same as I killed the slatey drake—for my adorning.”’ ‘But only a little wreath?’ she pleaded. ‘No. A big un. I’ll make the groundwork for it, and you’ll cover it. And there’s a posy knot of snowdrops in our gyarden; you can put ’em in. Now that’s done with.’ ‘It’ll never be done with, Robert Rideout! I’ll hate you to my dying day…