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'
The other laughed. He was a slim fellow, apparently about thirty, in
a fresh, well-cut, serge suit. A book was sticking out of one
pocket; he returned the map to the other. He had the sallow look of
one who has spent years in hot workshops, and a slight curvature of
the spine; but his eyes were singularly, audaciously bright, and all
his movements alert and decided.
'It's not often one sees such a typical bit of feudalism as this,'
he said, without the smallest embarrassment, pointing to the old
men, the gates, the hurdles, which Gregson was now placing in
position, and finally the Squire himself. 'I wouldn't have missed it
for worlds. It's as good as a play. You're fighting the County
Agricultural War Committee, I understand from these old fellows,
because they want a bit of your park to grow more food?'
'Well, sir, and how does it matter to you?'
'Oh, it matters a great deal,' said the other, smiling. 'I want to
be able to tell my grandchildren--when I get 'em--that I once saw
this kind of thing.


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