"Saved!" "Ay, ay, it's all bob, my covey! You're safe enough, that's certain!" responded the Minters, baying, yelping, leaping, and howling around him like a pack of hounds when the huntsman is beating cover; "but, where are the lurchers?" "Who?" asked Wood. He unlocked himself from her embrace. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. She forced herself not to think of John. Her hair was held back in a filigreed barrette. The wedding procession passed on, and the cynical rabble poured in behind.
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