Chapter 71

“Do you mind, Sarn,” she said, “how we used to play _Conquer_ with the big pink and white snail-housen down by the water, and you nearly always won, and I lost? Do you mind how I wanted to play _Green Gravel_?” Her faint voice stopped a while, and a strange thing happened, for as I watched her it seemed to me as if many voices, a long way off, took up the words of that old song and sang it right through, in parts, as is the manner of singers in our countryside. For if anybody sings at all, he or she can sing parts,…