“‘All the beauty that old Greece and Rome, sung, painted, taught’,” quoted Barney.

“And to think no human eyes save ours have seen or will see it,” breathed Valancy, who felt at times as if she were living in a book by John Foster. As she looked around her she recalled some passages she had marked in the new Foster book Barney had brought her from the Port — with an adjuration not to expect him to read or listen to it.

“‘All the tintings of winter woods are extremely delicate and elusive’,” recalled Valancy. “‘When the brief afternoon wanes and the sun just touches the tops of the hills, there seems to be all over the woods an abundance, not of colour, but of the spirit of colour. There is really nothing but