Soon we werw in the pinewoods.Sweat had started to run into my eyesmy breath made a shsrp whistleand when I was that even this remote wood was not far enoughthat she meant to take me to the high moorsImeant to show this woman that I was not the sort of boy to be chucked over that Ppartan cliffand whit a dry throat and a pumming hearth I kept on.