Dagging was doing unspeakable things to the rear of sheep. She could only be thankful that Clementine had not asked what dagging meant. Clancy would come back at luncheon, or dinner if they were working far away, with his hands that had done unspeakable things and yet would expect to touch her in the night. Except he did not touch her that way now. He had not since she had returned. They had hardly spoken since she came back from Sydney, because what was there to say? She could not talk about dagging . . .

The black stallion whickered in its pen. Two mares in foal nosed unenthusiastically at dry hay in a paddock nearby, but the beast had proved too violent for grooms to bring mares from other properties to be covered by him, and the horse’s reputation now made him impossible to sell.

‘Wait, mistress.’ Rose took her hand from Clementine’s and ran to the stallion, the sack still in her hands. The great beast cantered over to her, shoved its head towards her as Rose fed it something, stroked its neck, whispered in its ear. Then she was back.

‘That is the biggest horse ever,’ said Clementine admiringly, and far too loudly. But how could a child learn to speak like a lady when her grandfather was half deaf and conversation — such as it was — must be yelled if he was to hear?

Flora knew she should say something. Finally she dredged up the words. ‘Please do not do that in front of Clementine. It is dangerous.’

‘Yes, mistress. Come, Miss Clementine.’ Rose took Clementine’s hand again. Already the child’s hem was dusty. ‘Come this way, mistress.’

Flora followed her, across a paddock as hard as a wood floor, and then around the hill, until it met another hill, with cliffs like dirty gates. ‘Come,’ said Rose soothingly, holding out her hand to Clementine.

But where to? thought Flora with vague annoyance, just as the girl slipped behind a boulder, taking her daughter with her.

‘Singing, singing, buttercups and daisies!’ shouted Clementine, with no melody at all. Has she forgotten the rest of the song?

They should go back. This was ridiculous. ‘Rose! Rose, do you hear me! Come back now!’

The cliffs echoed, ‘Now! Now! Now!’

What did the girl think she was doing? But she could not leave Clementine out here with Rose. Flora eased her way around the boulder too, and found rocks, tumbled as if a sky giant had let them fall from his hand, with a whisper of moisture at their base that vanished as it reached the boulder.

She scrambled awkwardly over the rocks, holding up her skirts.

‘Rose!’ she demanded. And suddenly Rose was there, holding out a hand while Clementine tugged on the other.