Greatorex stood scanning the hill.
"'Tis Nad, wi' t' dawg, drivin' t' sheep."
"Oh, Jim, he'll see us."
"Nat he!"
But he drew her behind the shelter of the barn.
"He'll come down the fields. He'll be sure to see us."
"Ef he doos, caann't I walk in my awn fealds wi' my awn sweetheart?"
"I don't want to be seen," she moaned.
"Wall—?" he pushed open the door of the barn. "Wae'll creep in here than, tall he's paassed."
A gray light slid through the half-shut door and through the long, narrow slits in the walls. From the open floor of the loft there came the sweet, heavy scent of hay.