"It's mine," you cried, reaching out your hand.
"No—o," screamed Lizbeth. "It's for my dollies' breakfast," and she hugged the stunted, speckled fruit to her bosom so tightly that its brown, soft side was crushed in her hands. You tried to snatch it from her, but she struck you with her little clinched fist.
"No—o," she cried again. "It's my dollies' pear." Her lip quivered. Tears sprang into her eyes. You straightened yourself.
"All right," you muttered, fiercely. "All right for you. I'll run away, I will, and I'll never come back—never!"
You climbed the stone wall.
"No," cried Lizbeth.
"I'll never come back," you called, defiantly, as you stood on the top.
"No," Lizbeth screamed, scrambling to her feet and turning to you a face wet with tears and white with terror.
"Never, never!" was your farewell to her as you jumped. Deaf to the pitiful wail behind you, you ran out across the meadow, muttering to yourself your fateful, parting cry.
Lizbeth looked for a moment at the wall where you had stood. Then she ran sobbing after you, around through the gate, for the wall was too high for her, and out into the field, where to her blurred vision you were only a distant figure now, never, never to return.