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Updated: May 20, 2025
There's something there." "Ay;" he assented. "There med bae soomthing. Sall we goa oop t' fealds?" The Three Fields looked over the back of Upthorne Farm. Naked and gray, the great stone barn looked over the Three Fields. A narrow track led to it, through the gaps, slantwise, from the gate of the mistal. Above the fields the barren, ruined hillside ended and the moor began.
And always Jim met it with the same answer: "'Tisn' what we doon; 'tis what 'e doon. An' annyhow it had to bae." Every week Rowcliffe came to see her and every week Jim said to him: "She's at it still and I caan't move 'er." And every week Rowcliffe said: "Wait. She'll be better before long." And Jim waited. He waited till one afternoon in February, when they were again in the stable together.
He found her waiting for him, looking back, at the turn of the stair where John Greatorex's coffin had stuck in the corner of the wall. "Jim I'm so frightened," she said. "Ay. Yo'll bae all right downstairs." They stood in the kitchen, each looking at the other, each panting, she in her terror and he in his agony. "Take me away," she said. "Out of the house. That room frightened me.
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