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Updated: June 2, 2025
Then he might be kept at Upthorne, perhaps till midnight, perhaps till morning. Then, even if he called to leave word, she would not see him. When she looked deep she found herself wondering how long Mr. Greatorex would be over his dying. If she had looked a little deeper she would have found herself hoping that Mr. Greatorex was already dead. If Mr.
They waited till five; till a quarter-past. "I really can't wait any longer," said Mary, "for a man who doesn't come." By that time Rowcliffe and Gwenda were far on the road to Upthorne. He had overtaken her about a hundred yards above the schoolhouse, before the road turned to Upthorne Moor. "I say, how you do sprint up these hills!" She turned. "Is that you, Dr. Rowcliffe?" "Of course it's me.
She had been hounded to her marriage and conveyed with an appalling suddenness to Upthorne, that place of sinister and terrible suggestion, and the bed in which John Greatorex had died had been her marriage bed. Her mind, like a thing pursued and in deadly peril, took instantaneously a line. It doubled and dodged; it hid itself; its instinct was expert in disguises, in subterfuges and shifts.
It was dead white, and in its whiteness her blue eyes, dark and dilated, quivered with defiance and a sort of fear. She looked older and at the same time younger, as young as Alice and as helpless in her fear. Then he remembered that she had looked like that the night she had passed him in the doorway of the house at Upthorne. "How cold your hands are," he said.
And as he continually thought that Alice was at the Vicarage when she was at Upthorne, so he was convinced that Gwenda had left him when she was there. Rowcliffe judged that this confusion of the Vicar's would be favorable to his experiment. And it was. When Mr.
And about three o'clock she was at Upthorne Farm. She and Greatorex had found a moment after morning service to arrange the hour. And now they were standing together in the doorway of the Farmhouse. In the house behind them, in the mistal and the orchard, in the long marshes of the uplands and on the brooding hills there was stillness and solitude. Maggie had gone up to her aunt at Bar Hill.
Even if she defied her father and married Jim Greatorex in spite of him there would be almost as much shame in it as if, like Essy, she had never married him at all. And she couldn't live without him. Ally had suffered profoundly from the shock that had struck her down under the arcades on the road to Upthorne.
He caught her the very next Wednesday afternoon. She thought he had started for Upthorne when he hadn't. He was bound to catch her. For the best looking-glass in the house was in the Vicar's bedroom. It went the whole length and width of the wardrobe door, and Ally could see herself in it from head to foot.
He was silent a moment and then answered: "Utterly unconscious." They walked on in silence till they came in sight of the marshes and the long gray line of Upthorne Farm. "That's where I met you once," he said. "Do you remember? You were coming out of the door as I went in." "You seem to have been always meeting me." "Always meeting you. And then -always missing you.
South of the marshes were the high moors. Their flanks showed black where they have been flayed by the cuttings of old mines. At intervals, along the line of the hillside, masses of rubble rose in hummocks or hung like avalanches, black as if they had been discharged by blasting. Beyond, in the turn of the Dale, the village of Upthorne lay unseen.
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