building nests and making holes and burrows and
chippering or singing or squeaking to each other.
They are so busy and having such fun under the
earth or in the trees or heather. It's their world."

"How do you know all that?" said Colin,
turning on his elbow to look at her.

"I have never been there once, really," said
Mary suddenly remembering. "I only drove
over it in the dark. I thought it was hideous.
Martha told me about it first and then Dickon.
When Dickon talks about it you feel as if you saw
things and heard them and as if you were standing
in the heather with the sun shining and the
gorse smelling like honey -- and all full of bees
and butterflies."

"You never see anything if you are ill," said
Colin restlessly. He looked like a person listening
to a new sound in the distance and wondering
what it was.

"You can't if you stay in a room," said Mary.

"I couldn't go on the moor," he said in a resentful
tone.

Mary was silent for a minute and then she said
something bold.

"You might -- sometime."

He moved as if he were startled.

"Go on the moor! How could I? I am going
to die."

[[182]]

p181 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p182w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p183

v?