“But the wood is older than your family,” said Connie gently.

“Quite!” said Clifford. “But we’ve preserved it. Except for us it would go⁠ ⁠… it would be gone already, like the rest of the forest. One must preserve some of the old England!”

“Must one?” said Connie. “If it has to be preserved, and preserved against the new England? It’s sad, I know.”

“If some of the old England isn’t preserved, there’ll be no England at all,” said Clifford. “And we who have this kind of property, and the feeling for it, must preserve it.”

There was a sad pause.

“Yes, for a little while,” said Connie.