RUTH:
So, after all, the poor old soul crept back
To Krindlesyke to die.

(_MICHAEL BARRASFORD, without a word, moves towards the inner room
in a dazed manner, lifts the latch, and goes in. After a moment’s
hesitation, RUTH follows him, closing the door behind her. The boys,
who have been sitting staring at the fire, drowsily and unheeding,
rouse themselves gradually, stretching and yawning._)

NICHOLAS:
Grannie, we saw the circus:
And Ralph still says he wants to be a herd,
Like dad: but I can’t bide the silly baas.
When I’m a man I’ll be a circus-rider,
And gallop, gallop! I’m clean daft on horses.

(_An owl hoots piercingly without._)

RALPH:
Grannie, what’s that?

JUDITH:
Only an owl, son.

NICHOLAS:
Bo!
Fearent of hoolets!

RALPH: