Hot and tear-stained, she climbed out of bed, and paced across the dark
room to the grey blot of the window. She forgot her distrust of the
night air in all her misery of throbbing head and heart, and flung back
the casement, so that the soft marsh wind came in, with rain upon it,
and her tears were mingled with the tears of the night.

"Oh God!" she mourned to herself--"why didn't you make me a man?"






_PART II_

FIRST LOVE




§1

It took Joanna nearly two years to recover from the losses of her sheep.
Some people would have done it earlier, but she was not a clever
economist. Where many women on the Marsh would have thrown themselves
into an orgy of retrenchment--ranging from the dismissal of a dairymaid
to the substitution of a cheaper brand of tea--she made no new occasions
for thrift, and persevered but lamely in the old ones. She was fond of
spending--liked to see things trim and bright; she hated waste,
especially when others were guilty of it, but she found a positive