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A vehicle of some description turned out of the main road and headed down the lane. Laocoön-like, flanked on either hand by a writhing youthful figure, Reginald Sawyer called aloud: "Hi! Stop, there pray, stop." Darcy Faircloth lighted down out of a ramshackle Marychurch station fly, and advanced towards the rather incomprehensible group. "What's happened? What's the matter?" he said.
For, coming to herself, in the intervals of distracted fever dreams, she had asked for him, going back by instinct to the comfort of his care of her in childish illnesses long ago. Since she was ill enough, so Mary said, to need a doctor, let it be him. "Not Mr. Cripps out of the village, or Dr. Risdon from Marychurch. I won't see them. I will not see anyone from near here.
If she required unexpectedly to visit her brother or her niece at Deadham Hard, she must contrive to do so by train, and by such hired conveyances as the wayside station of Paulton Halt at this end of her journey, and of Marychurch at the other, might be equal to supplying. "In my opinion, Felicia, it is quite ridiculous you should attempt to go there at all to-day," Mrs.
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