'
'Same as bees,' said the Bee Boy. 'Bees won't stay by a
house where there's hating.'
'True,' said Tom. 'This Reformatories tarrified the
Pharisees same as the reaper goin' round a last stand o'
wheat tarrifies rabbits. They packed into the Marsh from
all parts, and they says, "Fair or foul, we must flit out o'
this, for Merry England's done with, an' we're reckoned
among the Images."'
'Did they all see it that way?' said Hobden.
'All but one that was called Robin - if you've heard of
him. What are you laughin' at?'Tom turned to Dan. 'The
Pharisees's trouble didn't tech Robin, because he'd
cleaved middlin' close to people, like. No more he never
meant to go out of Old England - not he; so he was sent
messagin' for help among Flesh an' Blood. But Flesh an'
Blood must always think of their own concerns, an'
Robin couldn't get through at 'em, ye see . They thought it
was tide-echoes off the Marsh.'
'What did you - what did the fai - Pharisees want?'
Una asked.
'A boat, to be sure. Their liddle wings could no more
cross Channel than so many tired butterflies. A boat an' a
crew they desired to sail 'em over to France, where yet
awhile folks hadn't tore down the Images.
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