For once the sky was clear and the sun bright, but Faith felt only a turbulence of nerves, gripping her sketchbook so hard that the edge dug into her fingers. She had no idea whether the doctor had persuaded everyone to accept her presence, or whether she would find herself a bone of contention, chewed by rival dogs. ‘Perhaps we had better ask the driver to wait a few minutes, just in case,’ said Uncle Miles. Evidently he was thinking along similar lines. Faith was relieved that the first person to approach was Ben Crock, and even more relieved to find that he had been expecting her. As before, his manner was careful and polite. He showed no signs of ordering her off the site. ‘I am sure the gentlemen will want to greet you properly, Miss Sunderly, but they are busy setting up a photograph right now.’ As she followed the foreman and her uncle down the zigzagging path into the little gorge, Faith felt a little glad that she had not robbed Clay of all his photographic commissions.
