FORE:Reuben stared in amazement. The approaching figure undoubtedly was Pete, but a Pete so changed by circumstances and demeanour as to be almost unrecognisable. He wore his Sunday black clothes, whichas, with the exception of the funeral, he had not put them on for ten yearswere something of a misfit. On his head was a black hat with a wide flapping brim, he walked with a measured step and his hands folded in front of him.Reuben drove back slowly through the October afternoon. A transparent brede of mist lay over the fields, occasionally torn by sunlight. Everything was very quietsounds of labour stole across the valley from distant farms, and the barking of a dog at Stonelink seemed close at hand. Now and then the old man muttered to himself: "We d?an't understand each otherwe d?an't forgive each otherwe've lost each other. We've lost each other."
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