From the golf course you got fine views of the lake. People said it was one of the most attractive courses in Ireland. Not as rugged as the great chamionship courses on the coast, but very varied, with rolling parkland and many clusters of trees... And always the lake, dark blue today with hardly any shadows on it.
PeterKelly and Martin McMahon stopped to rest and look down from the eighth green upon the high ground. It wasn't a busy golf course; they were holding nobody up. There was always time to stand and look down on Lough Glass and its lake.
"The tinkers are back, I see." Peter pointed out the coloured roofs of caravans on the far shore of the lake. "They're like the seasons, aren't they? Always coming back the same way and at the same time."
"Desperate life to inflict on the children, though. Some of them come up to get bits of machinery out of them or with dog bites. You'd pity them." said the doctor.
"They come in to me, too, only the very odd time. Often I tell them they know more than I do." Martin laughed. He had indeed said that between the travellers and old Madeleine there was a very good second line of defence as regards medicine in Lough Glass.
"Some of them are very fine-looking people." Peter peered into the distance, where two women walked by the water's edge. Martin looked too, and then they both moved at the same time to go back to line up their shots. It was as if they both thought one of the women looked very like Helen McMahon, but neither of them wanted to say it.
Clio told Kit that there was a woman among the travellers who told fortunes. And that she knew everything that was going to happen. But Mother Bernard would kill you stone dead of you went anywhere near her.
"What would Sister Madeleine say?" Kit wondered.