d loved it as she loved the moor, and
she caught her breath sharply as she remembered his white face. There
were matters of which it was not wise to think too much, and what need
was there when he wanted her to be content, when the stars and a slip of
a new moon shone in a tender sky, and birds made stealthy noises, not to
wake the world?

Once more it seemed to her that men and women saw happiness and sorrow
in a view too personal, and each individual too much isolated from the
rest. Here she sat, a tiny creature on the greatness of the moor, a mere
heartbeat in a vast life. If the heart missed a beat, the life would
still go on, yet it was her part to make the beat a strong and steady
one.

She wanted George to come, but she had a new fear of him. She might have
lived a thousand years since she had parted from him a few hours back,
and her instinct was to run away as from a stranger, but she would sit
there until he was quite close, and then she would call his name and put
out her hand, the one that wore his ring, and he would pull her up and
take her home. She bowed her head to her knees. Well, already she had
much that other people missed: that young man in the shop had not these
little moths and the springing heather with purple flowers and the star
that shone like a friend above her home.

The night grew darker: colour was sucked from the moor, and it lay as
black as deep lake water, blacker than the sky. It was time that country
folks were in their beds, and the Brent Farm lights went out as at a
signal.

Helen went slowly through the garden and up the stairs, and when she had
undressed she sat beside her window, wondering why George had not come.
Surely she would have heard if any accident had befallen him?

The quiet of the night assured her that all was well: the poplars were
concerned with their enduring effort to reach the sky; a cat went like a
moving drop of ink across the lawn. She stretched out for her dressing
gown and put it round her shoulders, and she sat there, leaning on the
window ledge and looking into the garden until her eyelids dropped and
resisted when she tried to raise them.

She had almost fallen asleep when she heard a familiar noise outside her
door. She stood up and met George as he entered.

"I'm glad you've come." She put out a timid hand to touch him and had it
brushed aside.

"Out of my way!" he said, pushing past her.

She saw he had been drinking though he was not drunk