She was trapped up there in the mow.
What a pity she had run away! Better have stood her ground and brazened it out before old Peake. He could not have stopped her running away. Even now it would be better to descend the ladder and face him alone, than to be caught up there by Perkin or Mr. Heaslip who would soon be at work on the new text. She went down slowly and met the old man carrying a pail of water. His look of vacant busyness changed to the one of dazed admiration with which he always regarded her. He set down his pail.
"Morning, girl," he said, showing his gums beneath his ragged moustache.
"Morning, Mr. Peake. I'm going away."
"Going away! Well, now. What'd that be for? Ain't they givin' ye enough to eat? I know their ways. I've worked for 'em, livin' in, and I know their table with no more grub than'd fatten a chipmunk. I bring my own dinner pail with meat sandwiches and a bottle of tea or I wouldn't have the stren'th to hoe their old weeds that grows like all possessed on this pesky farm."
"It's not the food. It's Perkin. I'm expected to marry him and I don't want to."
"Marry Perkin! No, no, you're too fine a big lass. Oh, no, no, no. I wouldn't have you marry Perkin. He's only a Home boy. Still—they say he's goin' to inherit all the money."
"I don't care. I threw him in the stream yesterday."
"Threw Perkin in the stream! Well, I never. My, but you're strong! A fine strong young girl. Now, tell us what he did to make you give him a duckin'. Don't be afraid. Every word, now. He laid his horny hand on her shoulder and stroked it.
But she was not listening to him. She was listening
