(_While MICHAEL still gazes at RUTH and her mother in amazement, BELL
HAGGARD slips out of the door, unnoticed, and away through the bracken
in the gathering dusk. An owl hoots._)




PART III


_A wet afternoon in May, six years later. The table is already set for
tea. JUDITH ELLERSHAW sits, knitting, by the hearth; a cradle with a
young baby in it by her side. The outer door is closed, but unlatched.
Presently the unkempt head of a man appears furtively at the window;
then vanishes. The door is pushed stealthily open: and JIM BARRASFORD,
ragged and disreputable (and some twenty years older than when he
married PHŒBE MARTIN) stands on the threshold a moment, eyeing
JUDITH’s unconscious back in silence: then he speaks, limping
towards her chair._

JIM:
While the cat calleevers the hills of Back-o’-Beyont,
The rats make free of the rick: and so, you doubled,
As soon as my hurdies were turned on Krindlesyke,
And settled yourself in the ingle?

JUDITH (_starting up, and facing him_):
Jim!

JIM: