“Yo med bae ef yo staayed with him.  Thot’s why I want yo t’ coom to mae.”

He looked at her.

“‘Tisn’ thot yo’re afraid of.  ‘Tis soomthin’ alse thot yo wawn’t tall mae.”

“Well—­I think—­I’m a little bit afraid of this house.  It’s—­it’s so horribly lonely.”

He couldn’t deny it.

“A’y; it’s rackoned t’ bae loanly.  But I sall navver leaave yo.  I’m goain’ t’ buy a new trap for yo, soa’s yo can coom with mae and Daaisy.  Would yo like thot, Ally?”

“Yes, Jim, I’d love it.  But——­”

“It’ll not bae soa baad.  Whan I’m out in t’ mistal and in t’ fields and thot, yo’ll have Maaggie with yo.”

She whispered.  “Jim—­I can’t bear Maggie.  I’m afraid of her.”

“Afraid o’ pore Maaggie?”

He took it in.  He wondered.  He thought he understood.

“Maaggie sall goa.  I’ll ‘ave anoother.  An’ yo sall ’ave a yooung laass t’ waait on yo.  Ef it’s Maaggie, shea sall nat stand in yore road.”

“It isn’t Maggie—­altogether.”

“Than—­for Gawd’s saake, loove, what is it?”

She sobbed.  “It’s everything.  It’s something in this house—­in this room.”

He looked at her gravely now.

“Naw,” he said slowly, “‘tis noon o’ thawse things.  It’s mae.  It’s mae yo’re afraid of.  Yo think I med bae too roough with yo.”

But at that she cried out with a little tender cry and pressed close to him.

“No—­no—­no—­it isn’t you.  It isn’t.  It couldn’t be.”

He crushed her in his arms.  His mouth clung to her face and passed over it and covered it with kisses.

“Am I too roough?  Tall mae—­tall mae.”

“No,” she whispered.

He pushed back her hat from her forehead, kissing her hair.  She took off her hat and flung it on the floor.

His voice came fast and thick.

“Kiss mae back ef yo loove mae.”

She kissed him.  She stiffened and leaned back in the crook of his arm that held her.

His senses swam.  He grasped her as if he would have lifted her bodily from the floor.  She was light in his arms as a child.  He had turned her from the window.

He looked fiercely round the room that shut them in.  His eyes lowered; they fixed themselves on the bed with its white counterpane.  They saw under the white counterpane the dead body of his father stretched there, and the stain on the grim beard tilted to the ceiling.

He loosed her and pushed her from him.

“We moost coom out o’ this,” he muttered.

He pushed her from the room, gently, with a hand on her shoulder, and made her go before him down the stairs.

He went back into the room to pick up her hat.

He found her waiting for him, looking back, at the turn of the stair where John Greatorex’s coffin had stuck in the corner of the wall.

“Jim—­I’m so frightened,” she said.

“Ay.  Yo’ll bae all right downstairs.”