Another pause. Mona is on thorns. Will the branching path, that may give her a chance of escaping a further tete-a-tete with him, never be reached?,
She turns slowly, and finds her fellow-pedestrian is a young man clad in a suit of very impossible tweed: she blushes hotly, not because he is a young man, but because she has no hat on her head, having covered her somewhat riotous hair with a crimson silk handkerchief she had found in Geoffrey's room, just before starting. It covers her head completely, and is tied under the chin Connemara fashion, letting only a few little love-locks be seen, that roam across her forehead, in spite of all injunctions to the contrary.,
"And to-morrow ye can go into Banthry an' prosecute that scoundrel Ryan," says Scully, "an' have yer arm properly seen afther.".
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