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I don’t want her on the beach on a horse or off it "I’ll go look for hio," Puck says "Wait a et Elizabeth to tie her behind the booth Don’t move"

I watch Puck et into a spirited discussion with one of the sisters who tends it

"That’s a poor match, Sean Kendrick," says a voice at my elbow It’s the other sister froaze to Puck "Neither of you are a housewife"

I don’t look away from Puck "I think you assu to assumption," Dory Maud says "You s her with your eyes I’m surprised there’s any of her left for the rest of us to see"

I shiftwoman, clever and industrious, and even I know froest man on the island for the last penny in his pocket "And what is she to you, then?"

Dory Maud’s expression is canny "What you are to Benjamin Malvern, only less salary and more affection"

We both look back to Puck, who has won the battle with Elizabeth and ties Dove behind the booth This ill wind throws both the ends of her hair and Dove’s mane to and fro I remember the feel of Puck’s ponytail in my hand, the heat of her skin when I tucked her hair into her collar

"She doesn’t know any better," Dory Maud says "What a girl like her needs is a s on the land A man ill hold her down so that she doesn’t fly away She doesn’t know yet that someone like you looks better on the shelf than in your hand"

I can hear in her voice that she means no cruelty by it But I say, "Someone to hold her down just as you are held?"

"I hold myself down," snaps Dory Maud "You and I both knohat you love, and those races are a jealous lover"

And now I hear in her voice that she knows this firsthand But she’s pegged , because it’s not the races I love

Puck co the vicious s the battle with Elizabeth "Dory!"

"Watch yourself on that beach," Dory Maud says, and then she leaves us behind with a bit of a growl Puck ed your mind?" I ask her

"I never do," she says

The beach is every bit as bad as I’d guessed The sky is down near the sand and occasional rain hits our faces like sea spray Fro ocean, the capaill uisce blowing across the black wet sand, the quarrels between horses and the smears of red down the beach A dark, dead capall lies out flat by the surf, every ashing around its legs but not erous for

Puck says, "Do you see Tommy?"

I do not, but only because there’splay Rain hisses in my ears

She pushes down the path and I have no choice but to follow her At the base are a few huddled spectators and a race official One of the Carrolls, I think, an uncle of Brian and Jonathan’s I stop to talk to him,down here?" My voice is thin in the wind;The horses are fighting The sea’s driving them mad"

"Is Tommy Falk down here?" I ask him

"Falk?"

"Black mare!"

He says, "They’re all black when they’re wet"