I thowt it was perhaps some
village chaps larkin' as had done it. But it ain't none o' them. It
beats me!'
Pamela looked at the two men smoking by the gate--representatives,
very likely, of the Inspection Sub-Committee. Should she go up and
question them? But some inherited instinct deterred her. She was
glad the country should have the land and the corn. She had no
sympathy with her father. And yet all the same when she actually saw
Demos the outsider forcibly in possession of Mannering land, the
Mannering spirit kicked a little. She would find out what had
happened from some of their own people.
So after watching the County Council plough for a while as it clove
its way up and down the park under the struggling sun which was
gradually scattering the fog--her young intelligence quite aware all
the time of the significance of the sight--she turned back towards
the house. And presently, advancing to meet her, she perceived the
figure of Elizabeth Bremerton--coming, no doubt, to get picturesque
details on the spot for the letter she had promised to write to a
certain artillery officer.
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