The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. ’ ‘Then you’re mad,’ Roding said flatly, and suddenly grinned. “Don’t think that I have been playing the spy upon you,” he continued. . . I'm as much astonished as you. Capes saw her, felt for her, cared for her greatly, even if he did not love her. Her likeness to her sister gave him at first almost a shock; a moment afterwards he was conscious of a wonderful sense of relief. It may bring us together again. ‘En effet, it is for this that I was enquiring of this man if he has pen and paper.
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