She began to grow suspicious of callers, to strain her ears when the sound of the grinding was low, waiting for it to start up with the roar of a motor-cycle. She came to know the grades in leeches--the business-leech and the hobby-leech and the charity-leech and the soul-leech. No matter what their particular goal, it was reached by the same path--Hamer Shaw’s cheque-book. The grinders did not want money, as a rule. Their needs as well as their methods were more subtle, based upon the pure ethics of elections, local, general or “by,” demure eyes turned upon next year’s voting-register. It was most of it “by,” Dandy reflected, watching their tortuous procedure. On the whole, she preferred the leeches. She began to wince a little when Harriet, cheerfully unconscious of having helped the Legend on its way, took it for granted that their acquaintance was in common; and though, at Dandy’s disclaimer, she would grunt “Cat-footers! Gees out of repair or something!” her contempt for the ostraciser did little to soothe the soul of the ostracised. Visiting Harriet’s farm, Dandy had come, with some surprise, upon Harriet’s father. Harriet seemed to stand so very much alone; you did not credit her with such weaknesses as near relations. Yet Fawcett Knewstubb was a distinct weakness, a very delicate spot indeed. He was very horsy, very check and utterly selfish, and a really strong connoisseur in language and whisky. Harriet kept him and his hunters, called him “Stubbs!” in the voice of a sergeant, and wished him dead, in a bitter heart. Hamer and his daughter motored to Bluecaster Show along a road swarming with enthusiasts who had no notion of making room for anybody. Dandy felt more of an outsider than ever in the crowded field, with its jumping and cattle rings, its tents, its long lines of wooden stands. She saw many faces she had come to know, but few held return signs of recognition. The usual people were busy greeting each other, very contented, very much at home. They were there because they had always been there, since the time they could first sit on a stand without falling through. After the greetings, they buried their heads in their catalogues and slouched along from pen to pen, walking blindly into everybody else, and offering information to the empty air. Anxious to do the thing thoroughly, Dandy and Hamer bought catalogues and slouched, too. By this means they were successful in running into Harriet, leaning up against something extremely solid with four legs and a horn or two, gloating over the blue-ribboned card opposite. When Hamer’s catalogue knocked her hat sideways, she merely remarked “How’s that for beef?” and continued to gloat. It was a minute or two before they could call her back to earth, but as soon as she realised their existence she left off gloating, and trotted them round the field in a terrific whirl of instruction, leading them at last, somewhat stunned, to a seat on the Grand Stand.