"
"Shall I be allowed to smoke a pipe in them?" asked Burke.
"You will do exactly what you like all day long," she told him
generously.
"So long as I don't get in your way," he suggested.
She laughed a little. "Oh, we shall be too happy for that.
Besides, you can have a farm or two to look after. There won't be
any dry watercourses there like that," pointing with her whip.
"That is what you call a '_spruit_,' isn't it?"
"You are getting quite learned," he said. "Yes, that is a _spruit_
and that is a _kopje_."
"And that?" She pointed farther on suddenly. "What is that just
above the watercourse? Is it a Kaffir hut?"
"No," said Burke.
He spoke somewhat shortly. The object she indicated was
undoubtedly a hut; to Sylvia's unaccustomed eyes it might have been
a cattle-shed. It was close to the dry watercourse, a little
lonely hovel standing among stones and a straggling growth of
coarse grass.
Something impelled Sylvia to check her horse. She glanced at her
companion as if half-afraid. "What is it?" she said. "It--looks
like a hermit's cell. Who lives there?"
"No one at the present moment," said Burke.
His eyes were fixed straight ahead. He spoke curtly, as if against
his will.
"But who generally--" began Sylvia, and then she stopped and turned
suddenly white to the lips.
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