"Better that than death," she said quietly.
"I can find my way in a fog; it is only a little extra darkness, and I know every inch of the way."
"Nonsense!" she said sharply. "No one can be sure of the road in a fog, and there is snow as well. I tell you, it is madness to venture out."
Griff Lomax could not but admit as much, as he obeyed the pressure of the hand on his arm.
"It will clear presently," he said, shutting the door, and following the woman into the parlour.
"There's more nor one kind o' storm brewing, I fancy," muttered Hannah, peering through a nick in the kitchen door.
The evening wore on. From time to time Lomax went to see if there were any change in the weather, but the fog showed no sign of lifting, and the snow crept earthward in bigger flakes than ever.
"You must spend the night here," said Kate. Her voice was peremptory, but a hot blush came to her cheeks.
"I ought to make an attempt to reach Marshcotes," muttered the other, doubtfully. Reason told him how foolhardy such an undertaking would be.
"With the snow covering every track? How can you, even if the fog clears?"