“But even you can’t tell what the show was, V.V.” said the lady in grey, who was standing now at Dr. Martineau’s elbow.

“Something horrid,” said Anthony’s younger sister to her elder in a stage whisper.

“BLUGGY,” agreed Anthony’s elder sister to the younger, in a noiseless voice that certainly did not reach father.  “Squeals!....”

This young lady who was addressed as “V.V.” was perhaps one or two and twenty, Dr. Martineau thought,—­he was not very good at feminine ages.  She had a clear sun-browned complexion, with dark hair and smiling lips.  Her features were finely modelled, with just that added touch of breadth in the brow and softness in the cheek bones, that faint flavour of the Amerindian, one sees at times in American women.  Her voice was a very soft and pleasing voice, and she spoke persuasively and not assertively as so many American women do.  Her determination to make the dry bones of Stonehenge live shamed the doctor’s disappointment with the place.  And when she had spoken, Dr. Martineau noted that she looked at Sir Richmond as if she expected him at least to confirm her vision.  Sir Richmond was evidently prepared to confirm it.

With a queer little twinge of infringed proprietorship, the doctor saw Sir Richmond step up on the prostrate megalith and stand beside her, the better to appreciate her point of view.  He smiled down at her.  “Now why do you think they came in there?” he asked.

The young lady was not very clear about her directions.  She did not know of the roadway running to the Avon river, nor of the alleged race course to the north, nor had she ever heard that the stones were supposed to be of two different periods and that some of them might possibly have been brought from a very great distance.

Section 2

Neither Dr. Martineau nor the father of the family found the imaginative reconstruction of the Stonehenge rituals quite so exciting as the two principals.  The father of the family endured some further particulars with manifest impatience, no longer able, now that Sir Richmond was encouraging the girl, to keep her in check with the slightly derisive smile proper to her sex.  Then he proclaimed in a fine loud tenor, “All this is very imaginative, I’m afraid.”  And to his family, “Time we were pressing on.  Turps, we must go-o.  Come, Phoebe!”

As he led his little flock towards the exit his voice came floating back.  “Talking wanton nonsense....  Any professional archaeologist would laugh, simply laugh....”

He passed out of the world.

With a faint intimation of dismay Dr. Martineau realized that the two talkative ladies were not to be removed in the family automobile with the rest of the party.  Sir Richmond and the younger lady went on very cheerfully to the population, agriculture, housing and general scenery of the surrounding Downland during the later Stone Age.  The shorter, less attractive lady, whose accent was distinctly American, came now and stood at the doctor’s elbow.  She seemed moved to play the part of chorus to the two upon the stone.