she came upon a moss-covered wooden gate, and for a moment the glory of the place was spoiled for her by the menacing notice that was nailed to it: “No Admittance. Beware of the Dogs.”
The neglected driveway inside turned and twisted among the trees, but in spite of that inhospitable warning the whole place had a seductive air of peace. Fantails fluttered about it unafraid of the invisible dogs, and a million bees thrived among the mingled scents. Wood pigeons flew over her head, and as she stood still a cock pheasant nervously trailed his beauty across the road a little way off.
Regretfully Valerie moved on, wondering who on earth lived there. Coming to a track leading towards the river she followed it, and found herself on a point the next beyond that on which the old house stood. She could see nothing of it even from here, but she could see the steps cut down the rocky face to a little landing where a small boat was tied outside a boathouse. Between the two points the river widened in an arc-shaped bay, rock-bound and overhung by lovely mixed bush. The water in it was clearer than that of the main stream and it was very still and cool. She investigated her own point, found a hollow where she could lean back, and for some time mooned in a peaceful sensuousness listening to birds and the wash of the tide, and staring up through the green elegance of a titoki at clouds that dissolved into puffs and melted away in the vivid blue.
Her dreaming was disturbed by the sound of a launch. She listened, envying the person who was racing down the river. As the sound grew sharp she stood up and looked over the top of a bush. Then seeing that the boat was heading straight for her point she ducked quickly, and peered out cautiously as it went by into the little bay.
