The black, still shadows of Twelve Pound Wood swallowed her and Seagrim out of the glare. The clop of hoofs and bowl of wheels on the Street came as from a great way off, and the hum of poised and darting insects, thick among the foxgloves, seemed to shut them into a little teeming world of buzz and pollen-dust and sun-trickled green. Seagrim stood still, and his arm slid from the crook of Ivy’s across her back, drawing her close. But with a sudden twisting movement she set herself free, standing before him in the path, with the tall foxgloves round her, flushed and freckled like her face, and behind her the pale cloud of the bennet heads like melting smoke. “Kip clear of me, Willie Seagrim—I’ll have no truck wud you. I’ve met your wife.” The man, slow of speech, gaped at her without a word. “Yes. She caum round to our plaace three days agone, and shamed me before my mother. But I said I knew as you wur married, and to-day I walked out wud you to show the foalkses here I aun’t bin fooled. Now I’ve shown ’em, you can go. I’m shut of you.” “Ivy—yo’re telling me that my Bess——” “Yes—your Bess, wud gloves and buttoned boots and——” She checked herself. “Yes, she caum, and tried to put me to shaum. But I druv her off, surelye; and now I’m shut of you, fur a hemmed chap wot fooled me wud a lie.” “But A no harmed yo’——” “Harmed me!”—she gasped. “Dom that Bess for a meddlesome fule. Oh, she’s gey canny, that Bess. But Ivy, li’l Ivy, yo’ll no cast me off for that?” “Why shud I kip you?—you’ve bin a-fooling me. You maade as you wur a free man, and all the while you wur married. I—I loved you.” “And yo’ kin lo’ me still....” He sought to take her, but she pushed him off. “Reckon I can’t. Reckon as I’ll never disremember all the lies you’ve said. And you spuk of loving me ... knowing all the whiles.... Oh, you sought to undo me! Reckon I’m jest a gurt trusting owl, but it wur middling cruel of you to trick me so.” “Ivy—by God A sweer——” “Be hemmed to your silly swears. I’ll never believe you more.” “But yo’ll no cast me off fur a wumman up North....” “I don’t care where she be. She’s yourn—and you hid her from me. If you’d toald me straight, maybe I—but ...” “Yo’ na speered of me. Why should A have spoken?” “You did spik—you spuk as a free man.” “A was a fule—yo’ made me mad for you.” His eye was darkening, and the corners of his mouth had an angry twist. “You toald me as extra duty kept you away last week,” continued Ivy, “and it wurn’t—it wur your wife. Reckon you love her and I’m only a girl fur your spare days. You’d kip me on fur that.” “A’ll keep yo’ on for naething. If yo’ don’t like me, yo’ can go.” “It’s you who can go. I’m shut of you from this day forrard. You git back to Hailsham this wunst and never come here shaming me more.” “Yo’ll be shamed if I go. Better for yo’ if I stay.” “If you stay you’ll shaum me furder, fur you’ll shaurn me wud my own heart. Git you gone, Willie Seagrim, and find a bigger fool than me.”