Tales of the Long Bow
savagely. Hunter, in Crane's old phrase, was not a man who let the grass grow under his feet. It was so like him to have somehow used the incident as an introduction to the Seymours. Things were always stepping-stones for Hunter, and the little rock in the river had been a stepping-stone to the country house. But was the country house a stepping-stone to something else? Suddenly Hood realized that all his angers had been very abstract angers. He had never hated a man before.
At that moment the train stopped at the station of Cowford.
"I wish you'd get out here with me," he said abruptly, "only for a little—and it might be the last time. I want you to do something."
She looked at him with a curious expression and said in a rather low voice, "What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to come and pick bluebells," he said harshly.
She stepped out of the train, and they went up a winding country road without a word.
"I remember!" she said suddenly. "When you get to the top of this hill you see the wood where the bluebells were, and your little island beyond."
"Come on and see it," said Owen.
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