When she had gone Mr. Harrison watched her from the window . . . a lithe, girlish shape, tripping lightheartedly across the fields in the sunset afterglow.
Tá hon var farin, eygleiddi harra Harrison hana frá vindeyganum... eitt snúiligt gentuskapilsi, dansandi lætt í sinni tvørtur um markirnar í kvøldarroðanum frá setandi sólini.