Sweet Love Remembered [antikvár]

ONE From somewhere over the moor came the thin, wavering note of the hunting horn. The dusk of the November afternoon was deepening into evening, quickened by the mist which rose üke swirls of pale chiffon around Diana's feet as she walked along the rutted track to the cottage. She had to leave her Mini a little way away from the door itself as the track ended abruptly a few yards away and only a path wound among the gránité outcrops. The miners who had once used the remote cottage had had no transport other than their own legs -or at best, a pony. The twin ruby lights of the tiny moorland bus had disappeared over the erest of the hill in the distance, and for somé reason she had felt a sense of isolation, a pricking of fear along the nerves of her spiné and up into her scalp. The nearest humán being must be over a mile away-a mile out of earshot. As she walked now on the soft turf she heard footsteps behind her on the loose surface of the track. She stopped, holding her breath. The steps came on, stealthy but assured. 5