"Well, I don't run no risk of ever putting my mouth to that cup, see? All us women hate you. Go!"
Henry was already trundling the wheelbarrow up the street when Delight crossed the stable-yard. She hurried after him, carrying her basket of dishes, feeling pursued by Mrs. Jessop's hatred. The splintering crash of the cup was still in her ears. And the bitter words, too, would not leave her.
What a rain had fallen after the long weeks of drought! Little runnels of water ran across the yard, and joined a gurgling stream in the gutter. The drinking-trough was flooded and stood in a pool, both reflecting the silver light in the east. In the west hung a grand purple cloud, driven through again and again by the pale stilettos of distant lightning, and shaken by far-off thunder.
The crows were up. She heard them coming, emerging from the fastness of their woods by the lagoon.
"Caw—caw—caw— Come along, Kate—come along. Up, Sue! Up, Sue! Speed—speed—speed— Feed, boys, feed!"
They circled above her. Jimmy's crows. Would they perhaps know her for his girl?
They dipped, and rose, and swam through the cool drenched air, peering down at her, she thought, with their bright eyes. A black guard for this last walk through Brancepeth.
"Guard her—speed her—speed her—Jimmy's girl—Who's that? Why, Delight! Delight! Delight!"
Once they fastened on that word Delight how they played with it! They screamed it across the sky till they almost frightened her. They tossed it from one to
