“He will be with the Thompsons,” said Rickie, looking up at dark eaves. “Perhaps he’s in bed already.”
“Perhaps he will be at The Antelope.”
“No. Tonight he is with the Thompsons.”
“With the Thompsons.” After a dozen paces he said, “The Thompsons have gone away.”
“Where? Why?”
“They were turned out by Mr. Wilbraham on account of our broken windows.”
“Are you sure?”
“Five families were turned out.”
“That’s bad for Stephen,” said Rickie, after a pause. “He was looking forward—oh, it’s monstrous in any case!”
“But the Thompsons have gone to London,” said Leighton. “Why, that family—they say it’s been in the valley hundreds of years, and never got beyond shepherding. To various parts of London.”