She pointed with her chin. Clad in walking boots, olive trousers and a tartan shirt, the Major came striding towards them. To his satisfaction, Chris noticed that not all the English wore the over-the-top tracking attire he knew from some tourists visiting the Alps, who looked as if on their way to conquer Mt. Everest.
For a split second the Major hesitated when he saw the children.
"There... er...there was a... dog roaming about. I want to catch it. You haven't seen it by any chance, have you?"
"Yes, we have. It belongs to a couple called Nuzzolo," Nicky answered. "They have just entered the clubhouse. With the dog," she added, annoyed.
"Is that so?"
The Major seemed determined to penetrate the door with his stare.
"Well then, I think I'd better tell them about the regulations concerning dogs on St. Mary's," Mr Stevenson declared, gave one of his peculiar nods and vanished inside the house.
Mystified, Chris and Nicky looked at each other. But what use was it, puzzling about a
grown-up's irrational behaviour?
(To be continued)