(_She breaks off, as BELL HAGGARD is already out of hearing, and stands watching her till she is out of sight; then turns, closing the door, and sinks into a chair in an abstracted fashion. She takes up her knitting mechanically, but sits, motionless, brooding by the fire._) JUDITH: To think that Jim--and after all these years ... And then, to come like that! I wonder what ... I wish he hadn’t gone without the boots. (_She resumes her knitting, musing in silence, until she is roused by the click of the latch. The door opens, and BELL HAGGARD stumbles into the room and sinks to the floor in a heap. Her brow is bleeding, and her dress, torn and dishevelled._) JUDITH (_starting up_): Bell! What has happened, woman? Are you hurt? Oh, but your brow is bleeding! BELL: I’d an inkling There must be blood somewhere: I seemed to smell it. JUDITH: But what has happened, Bell? Don’t say ’twas Jim! BELL: Nay ... nay ... it wasn’t Jim ... I stumbled, Judith: And, seemingly, I cracked my cruntle a bit-- It’s Jill fell down, and cracked her crown, this journey. I smelt the blood ... but, it’s not there, the pain ... It’s in my side ... I must have dunched my side Against a stone in falling ... I could fancy A rib or so’s gone smash. JUDITH (_putting an arm about her and helping her to rise_): Come and lie down, And I’ll see what ... BELL: Nay: but I’ll not lie down: I’m not that bad ... and, anyhow, I swore I’d not lie down again at Krindlesyke. If I lay down, the walls would close on me, And scrunch the life out ... But I’m havering-- Craitching and craking like a doitered crone. Lightheaded from the tumble ... mother-wit’s Jirbled and jumbled ... I came such a flam. I’m not that bad ... I say, I’ll not lie down ... Just let me rest a moment by the hearth, Until ... (_JUDITH leads her to a chair, fetches a basin of water and some linen, and bathes the wound on BELL’s brow._) JUDITH: I wish ...