ONE:"Would you believe it, he has a hundred sheepand a man working under himand money coming in quite easy now. It wur hard at first, Bessie says, and[Pg 335] he wur in tedious heart over it all, but he pulled through his bad times, and now he's doing valiant."
TWO:When they came to Odiam, she told Reuben what she had heard about Robert.
ONE:"Who's Rose?"Reuben felt dazed and sick, the solemn faces of the[Pg 274] mourners seemed to leer at him, he was seized by a contemptuous hatred of his kind. There was some confused buzzing talk, but he did not join in it. He shook hands deliriously with the lawyer, muttered something about having to get back, and elbowed his way out of the room. Pete had driven over to fetch him in his gig, as befitted the dignity of a yeoman farmer and nephew-by-marriage of the deceased, but Reuben angrily bade him go home alone. He could not sit still, he must walk, stride off his fury, the frenzy of rage and disgust and disappointment that consumed him.
TWO:"Git offbefore I t?ake my gun and shoot you."He had risen too, and stood before her in mingled pain and surprise. He thought her resistance mere coyness, and suddenly flung his arms round her as she stood.
ONE:"Ho, afeard of you, am I?and because you're a[Pg 205] youngster? I'll justabout show you wot a youngster's worth. A better man, are you?Put up your fists, and we'll see who's the better man."Though he had spent, on and off, some years in Rye, he had seen very little of the surrounding country, and did not know that Odiam was the farm of his adventure. Caro had told him her name, and he had heard of Ben Backfield, but did not remember much about him. The episode did not affect him very deeply. At dinner he asked his aunt the name of Backfield's farm, and forgot it as he walked down Wish Ward that evening, wearing his best guernsey and breeches, his hands in his pockets, his pipe in his mouth, his earrings glittering in the forest of his hair.
TWO:She sat down and held her feet to the brazier. He noticed that her shoes were pulped with wet, and the water was pouring off her skirts to the floor. He did not dare speak, and she evidently did not want to. He felt the colour mounting to his face; he knew that he was dirty and unkempt, for he had been hours in the huthis hands were grimed from the brazier, and he wore an old crumpled slop. She probably despised him."Well," said Holgrave, looking at his guest with that kindly feeling that is ever called forth by unexpectedly beholding an acquaintance of earlier days"well, how often my poor mother used to talk of you, and wonder how it fared with you. I remember well when you came to bid us good-bye."
