of wine--she was sitting in the
dining-room, staring unmoved at Nell Raddish's guilt revealed in a
breakfast-table laid over night. Lawrence and Sir Harry were both with
her, being kind to her, forgetting their own grief in trying to comfort
her. But Joanna only wanted to go home. Suddenly she felt lonely and
scared in this fine house, with its thick carpets and mahogany and
silver--now that Martin was not here to befriend her in it. She did not
belong--she was an outsider, she wanted to go away.

She asked for the trap, and they tried to persuade her to stay and have
some breakfast, but she repeated doggedly, "I want to go." Lawrence went
and fetched the trap round, for the men were not about yet. The morning
had not really come--only the cold twilight, empty and howling with
wind, with a great drifting sky of fading stars.

Lawrence went with her to the door, and kissed her--"Good-bye, dear Jo.
Father or I will come and see you soon." She was surprised at the kiss,
for he had never kissed her before, though the Squire had taken full
advantage of their relationship--she had supposed it wasn't right for
Jesoots.

She did not know what she said to him--probably nothing. There was a
terrible silence in her heart. She heard Smiler's hoofs upon the
road--clop, clop, clop. But they did not break the silence within ...
oh, Martin, Martin, put your hand under my arm, against my heart--maybe
that'll stop it aching.

Thoughts of Martin crowding upon her, filling her empty heart with
memories.... Martin sitting on the tombstone outside Brodnyx church on
Christmas day, Martin holding her in his arms on the threshold of
Ansdore ... Martin kissing her in New Romney church, bending her back
against the pillar stained with the old floods ... that drive through
Broomhill--how he had teased her!--"we'll come here for our honeymoon"
... Dunge Ness, the moaning sea, the wind, her fear, his arms ... the
warm kitchen of the Britannia, with the light of the wreckwood fire, the
teacups on the table, "we shall want to see our children".... No, no,
you mustn't say that--not _now_, not _now_.... Remember instead how we
quarrelled, how he tried to get between me and Ansdore, so that I forgot
Ansdore, and gave it up for his sake; but it's all I've got now. I gave
up Ansdore to Martin, and now I've lost Martin and got Ansdore. I've got
three hundred acres and four hundred sheep and three hundred pounds at
interest in Lewes Old Bank. But I've lo