“Are we interrupting anything?” “No!” Martin jumped slightly. “Think of the mockery!” she said. The major’s hand stilled. Before the congregation separated, the clergyman descended from the pulpit; and, followed by the coffin-bearers and mourners, and by Jack at a respectful distance, entered the churchyard. You know nothing of life, nothing of its dangers, nothing of its possibilities. She followed him about persistently, and succeeded, after a brisk, unchivalrous struggle (in which he pinched and asked her to “cheese it”), in kissing him among the raspberries behind the greenhouse.
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