Silence again.
“Agnes what?”
“Gib,” she said.
“You old Enoch’s girl?” he asked.
She did not answer.
“Was you cuttin’ it?” he asked.
“Was I what?”
“Givin’ ’im the slip?”
“I’m on my way home,” she said. “Please don’t bother any more about me. I’m quite all right now.”
Her manner had changed. Her tone was formal and dismissive. Thane moved away from her, uncertain what to do, looked about in the grass for his lunch basket, found it, stood for some minutes twirling it in his hands, and slowly came back.