The great forest away from London was full of game, and this was where the London hunters were rushing to. The sunlight was drowned in the thick green crowns of tall, mighty trees, so it was quite dark.

The darkness frightened Vivian, made her feel like a bug lost in a vast forest full of rage and death. For that was how she perceived hunting, which her own cousin, as well as her husband, regarded only as a pleasure. Vivian did not want to be here, riding a horse along a barely discernible bushy path, waiting for her husband to find his prey.

Two trained hunting dogs – young, full of vigour and energy greyhounds – were running with the speed of the wind between the trees in front of their owners' horses in pursuit of a rather large red fox. The poor hunted animal began to lose strength, and soon a loud shot rang through the air, causing Vivian to shriek in surprise.

– What a catch! Marcus! Aurelius! You have done well, my friends!" Jeremy laughed happily and started his horse at a jog.

Vivian stopped her horse and looked regretfully at where her husband was pointing his horse: not far away from them, a fox lay a bright spot on the dark, dry ground. Blood was pouring from the side of the dead animal. Jeremy had killed the poor creature with a single shot, which, in itself, was an act of mercy: the victim had died painlessly. But this fact by no means comforted the girl who hated hunting.

Tears came to Vivian's eyes, but she hastily brushed them away with her leather glove: she did not want Jeremy to think her sentimental. The girl had no desire to look at the dead fox more closely, and, from a distance, watched silently as her husband rejoiced in his bloody success.

Jeremy did not hurry up to put the prey into the thick canvas bag tied to the saddle of his horse; he looked from the dead fox to the pale face of his wife and grinned faintly. Vivian's timidity and her open aversion to one of his favourite pastimes had hurt his pride. The young man felt that Vivian should have supported his interests as his meek, caring mother had done for her husband. Turning his horse round, Jeremy steered it to where his beloved wife's horse stood still.

– I never asked you that question, my dear," Jeremy asked with a smile as he neared Vivian. – You say to me, 'My love,' but do you love me?

– What a question! – The husband replied playfully cheerfully, but then her face grew serious: "I confess that when you proposed to me, I had no tender feelings for you, but I knew I would love you. And I did, my love. I love you.

– Prove it to me. – The smile faded from young Wington's face. – Bring me my booty.

Cold goosebumps ran down Vivian's back. She stared at her husband's calm and determined face, unable to find the words to answer.

– But you have dogs for that, my dear," she finally managed to force out of her throat.

– I wish you would do it. Come on, my angel. It's not as scary as you think.

Vivian swallowed but didn't move.

– Jeremy, you know how I feel about hunting…" she began.

– We're not going home, unless you do what I asked," Jeremy interrupted his wife.

Mr. Wington's tone was smooth but firm. He knew what he was saying and was ready to carry out his threat. Vivian felt it with all her being.

Without a word, the girl obediently saddled down and walked slowly towards the dead fox. Her lips trembled with grievance, and her eyes became wet again with tears of pity for the red-haired creature that had recently been running through the forest and enjoying the warm summer days.