Judith:
Nay, nay:
They mustn’t find you here.
Jim:
Judith, you’re right:
For they might blab. I’d best be hooking it.
I’ll go: but, mind, you’re not yet shot of me.
(As he is speaking, Bell Haggard appears in the doorway, and stands, with arms akimbo, watching them; but Jim has his back to the door, and Judith, gazing into the fire, doesn’t see her either.)
Jim:
I’ll wait for you beneath the Gallows Rigg,
Where the burn skirts the planting, in the slack
We trysted in, in the old days—do you mind?
Judith:
I mind.
Jim: