w knew a panic-terror at anything
that threatened her body. That made the boys shout with laughter and
call to their friends to hurry up and see the fun.

The sunshine that beat down on the unshaded field was hot on her bare
head. It would be awkward too, going into the village hatless and with
ruffled hair. But she must not be angry with George Postgate, for indeed
the incident had been to him only a means of gaining that popularity
with the fellows that his poor stupid soul so longed for and had so
often been refused, and he could not know that the fright would make her
feel so ill. Since the first agonising months of her pregnancy, when
nausea and faintness had pervaded her days, she had never felt as ill as
this. A sweat had broken out on her face and her hands; she had to
pant for breath and her limbs staggered under her. But she would be all
right if she could sit down for one moment. There was a hawthorn stump a
little way off, and to this she made her way, but as she sunk down on it
a clod of earth struck her in the shoulder. She spun round, and another
broke on her face. Grit filled her mouth, which was open with amazement.
She had been deaf with physical distress, so she had not heard that the
boys had gathered together on the wood's edge and were now marching
after her in a shouting crowd. Something in her attitude when she turned
on them made them fall dumb and stock-still for a moment. But as a gust
of wind ruffled her hair and blew her skirts about her body a roar of
laughter went up from them, and earth and dry dung flew through the air
at her.

As she set her face towards the High Street again, which still seemed
very far away, she sobbed with relief to see that old Mr. Goode, the
carrier, had come down to the end of his garden to see what the noise
meant, and that he had almost at once gone back into his house. Of
course he would come out and save her. In the meantime she pushed on
towards the houses, that because of her sickness and her fear rocked and
wavered towards her flimsily like a breaking wave. A heavy clod struck
her in the back, and she shrieked silently with terror. If they hurt her
she might give birth to her baby and it would not live. She had not had
it quite seven months yet, so it would not live. At that thought anguish
pierced her like a jagged steel and she began to try to run, muttering
little loving names to her adored and threatened child. She looked
towards the road to see if old