She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. For a few minutes he kept them at bay. " "Heaven help her!" sighed Jack. Little more’n a week. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. A. . Hey. . . Suddenly a half stifled exclamation broke from Anna’s lips. "You dropped this, sir. Then she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more upright.
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