* * * * *
He spoke to her that afternoon.
In the cottage down by the beck Essy sat by the hearth, nursing her baby. He had recovered from his ailment and lay in her lap, gurgling and squinting at the fire. He wore the robe that Mrs. Gale had brought to Essy five months ago. Essy had turned it up above his knees, and smiling softly she watched his little pink feet curling and uncurling as she held them to the fire. Essy's back and the back of the baby's head were toward the door, which stood open, the day being still warm.
Greatorex stood there a moment looking at them before he tapped on the door.
He felt no tenderness for either of them, only a sullen pity that was half resentment.
As if she had heard his footsteps and known them, Essy spoke without looking round.
"Yo' can coom in ef yo' want," she said.
"Thank yo'," he said stiffly and came in.
"I caan't get oop wi' t' baaby. But there's a chair soomwhere."
He found it and sat down.