“Quoits,” said Hawthorn flatly, when he appeared. Maud passed him one of the stiff rope rings. “Nice healthy exercise in the fresh air.” The Pipes and Drums were giving a performance the next day. The faint wails and rattles of their distant rehearsal could be heard like a battle taking place on the other side of a mountain. But the air was, inarguably, fresh. “A ride on a horse or a good session of singlestick would be exercise.” “When I locate the Lyric’s stables, Lord Hawthorn, I shall let you know.”
