Passing at a glance over the whole of the intervening period; leaving in the words of the poet, —The growth untried Of that wide gap— we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June, 1715. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. "Your sympathy is being wasted. She sensed his acute frustration as he unzipped her raincoat while trying to kiss her. She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself. What you said wanted saying. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. Her husband finally relented. It will cost them something to repair their stronghold, and take them more time to build it up again than I have taken to pull it down.
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