Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. There is a small yewtree west of the church. I take more than their blood, John. Wood went on fuming, and the trio went on laughing for some minutes, nobody knew why or wherefore, until the party was increased by Mr. Killed is too kind a word. John eased off. . Stanley pronounced, and seemed to hesitate whether he had not gone too far. ‘I am saying so,’ protested Gerald mildly.
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