"No."
"Yes—and I'm coming wud you, surelye."
"I should be frightened if you came."
She managed to persuade him to go his different way—though the actual moment of their parting was always a blur in her memory. Afterwards she could not remember if they had kissed, touched hands, or parted without a word. Her throat was still full of sobs when she came to Odiam; she was panting, too, for she had run all the way—she did not know why.
The house was swimming in the light of the western moon. Its strange curves and bulges, its kiln-shaped ends, and great waving sprawl of roof all shone in a white glassy brilliance, which was somehow akin to peace. There was a soft flutter of wind in the orchard and in the sentinel poplars, while now and then came that distant night-purged scrap of song:
"Soles, plaice, and dabs,
Rate, skate, and crabs.
God save the Queen!"
Rose wondered uneasily what time it was. Surely it could not be very late, and yet the house was shut up and the windows dark.