Then Malise, not without a tremor of emotion in his voice, read out Ronald Duncan’s beautiful poem: “To the Horse’,and Janey found herself in floods of tears again. That evening Marcus had his worst asthma attack ever. It was soon obvious, as he demolished jump after jump, sending poles and bricks flying, that this was a far from easy course. “No, it doesn’t,” said Fen, putting a freesia behind her ear and waltzing round the room.
”“Don’t put that number on me. You treat her appallingly. If he walked out on the games, he must have had a good reason, O. Both sexes were wearing khaki anoraks or combat kit as camouflage, but with their grey faces and long
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