Harry. Once I sets off running by myself, I’ll get there fast enough, May. But I be going to stop along of you a bit more, for I don’t care much about letting you bide lonesome on the road, like.
May. Then sit you down aside of me, Harry, and the heat in my body, which is like flames, shall maybe warm yourn, too.
Harry. [Sitting down by her side.] ’Tis a fine thing to have a home what you can get in and go to, May, with a bit of fire to heat the limbs of you at, and plenty of victuals as you can put inside. How was it as you ever came away from it, like?
May. Ah, and that’s what I be asking of myself most of the time, Harry! For, ’tis summat like a twelve or eleven year since I shut the door behind me and went out.
[A slight pause.
May. Away from them all, upon the road—so ’twas.
Harry. And never see’d no more of them, nor sent to say how ’twas with you, nor nothing?
May. Nor nothing, Harry. Went out and shut the door behind me. And ’twas finished.
[A long pause, during which the darkness has gathered.
Harry. Whatever worked on you for to do such a thing, May?