A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. Somewhere she had read that it was the proper thing to do and that men liked to be alone with their tobacco. Just what in the world was that about? Before he could hazard a guess, Lucy looked back at him. Kneebone helped to the pigeon-pie; while Thames unwired and uncorked a bottle of stout Carnarvonshire ale.
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