his thoughts as he stood there, looking down at the motionless figure, to the encounter when he had been surprised by his father with Claire.
The meadow lark gave a low whistle and nervously flitted
her tail, showing the white feathers with which it was edged.
Then, shrouded in her school cloak of grey, and clad, I mean, in but little else, Agnes flitted
out as silent as a shadow along a wall.