Thenewkeeperhadnodoubtputinfreshpebbles。Sheheardthefainttinkleofwater，asthetinyoverflowtrickledoveranddownhill。Evenabovethehissingboomofthelarchwood，thatspreaditsbristling，leafless，wolfishdarknessonthedown-slope，sheheardthetinkleasoftinywater-bells。
　　Thisplacewasalittlesinister，cold，damp。Yetthewellmusthavebeenadrinking-placeforhundredsofyears。Nownomore。Itstinyclearedspacewaslushandcoldanddismal。
　　Sheroseandwentslowlytowardshome。Asshewentsheheardafainttappingawayontheright，andstoodstilltolisten。Wasithammering，orawoodpecker？Itwassurelyhammering。
　　Shewalkedon，listening。Andthenshenoticedanarrowtrackbetweenyoungfir-trees，atrackthatseemedtoleadnowhere。Butshefeltithadbeenused。Sheturneddownitadventurously，betweenthethickyoungfirs，whichgavewaysoontotheoldoakwood。Shefollowedthetrack，andthehammeringgrewnearer，inthesilenceofthewindywood，fortreesmakeasilenceevenintheirnoiseofwind。
　　Shesawasecretlittleclearing，andasecretlittlehotmadeofrusticpoles。Andshehadneverbeenherebefore!Sherealizeditwasthequietplacewherethegrowingpheasantswerereared；thekeeperinhisshirt-sleeveswaskneeling，hammering。Thedogtrottedforwardwithashort，sharpbark，andthekeeperliftedhisfacesuddenlyandsawher。Hehadastartledlookinhiseyes。
　　Hestraightenedhimselfandsaluted，watchingherinsilence，asshecameforwardwithweakeninglimbs。Heresentedtheintrusion；hecherishedhissolitudeashisonlyandlastfreedominlife。
　　`Iwonderedwhatthehammeringwas，’shesaid，feelingweakandbreathless，andalittleafraidofhim，ashelookedsostraightather。
　　`Ah’mgettin’th’coopsreadyforth’youngbods，’hesaid，inbroadvernacular。
　　Shedidnotknowwhattosay，andshefeltweak。`Ishouldliketositdownabit，’shesaid。
　　`Comeandsit’erei’th’’ut，’hesaid，goinginfrontofhertothehut，pushingasidesometimberandstuff，anddrawingoutarusticchair，madeofhazelsticks。
　　`AmAht’lightyeralittlefire？’heasked，withthecuriousnaï；veté；
　　ofthedialect。
　　`Oh，don’tbother，’shereplied。
　　Buthelookedatherhands；theywereratherblue。Sohequicklytooksomelarchtwigstothelittlebrickfire-placeinthecorner，andinamomenttheyellowflamewasrunningupthechimney。Hemadeaplacebythebrickhearth。
　　`Sit’erethenabit，andwarmyer，’hesaid。
　　Sheobeyedhim。Hehadthatcuriouskindofprotectiveauthoritysheobeyedatonce。Soshesatandwarmedherhandsattheblaze，anddroppedlogsonthefire，whilstoutsidehewashammeringagain。Shedidnotreallywanttosit，pokedinacornerbythefire；shewouldratherhavewatchedfromthedoor，butshewasbeinglookedafter，soshehadtosubmit。
　　Thehutwasquitecosy，panelledwithunvarnisheddeal，havingalittlerustictableandstoolbesideherchair，andacarpenter’sbench，thenabigbox，tools，newboards，nails；andmanythingshungfrompegs：axe，hatchet，traps，thingsinsacks，hiscoat。Ithadnowindow，thelightcameinthroughtheopendoor。Itwasajumble，butalsoitwasasortoflittlesanctuary。
　　Shelistenedtothetappingoftheman’shammer；itwasnotsohappy。
　　Hewasoppressed。Herewasatrespassonhisprivacy，andadangerousone!
　　Awoman!Hehadreachedthepointwhereallhewantedonearthwastobealone。Andyethewaspowerlesstopreservehisprivacy；hewasahiredman，andthesepeoplewerehismasters。
　　Especiallyhedidnotwanttocomeintocontactwithawomanagain。
　　Hefearedit；forhehadabigwoundfromoldcontacts。Hefeltifhecouldnotbealone，andifhecouldnotbeleftalone，hewoulddie。Hisrecoilawayfromtheouterworldwascomplete；hislastrefugewasthiswood；
　　tohidehimselfthere!
　　Conniegrewwarmbythefire，whichshehadmadetoobig：thenshegrewhot。Shewentandsatonthestoolinthedoorway，watchingthemanatwork。Heseemednottonoticeher，butheknew。Yetheworkedon，asifabsorbedly，andhisbrowndogsatonhertailnearhim，andsurveyedtheuntrustworthyworld。
　　Slender，quietandquick，themanfinishedthecoophewasmaking，turneditover，triedtheslidingdoor，thensetitaside。Thenherose，wentforanoldcoop，andtookittothechoppinglogwherehewasworking。
　　Crouching，hetriedthebars；somebrokeinhishands；hebegantodrawthenails。Thenheturnedthecoopoveranddeliberated，andhegaveabsolutelynosignofawarenessofthewoman’spresence。
　　SoConniewatchedhimfixedly。Andthesamesolitaryalonenessshehadseeninhimnaked，shenowsawinhimclothed：solitary，andintent，likeananimalthatworksalone，butalsobrooding，likeasoulthatrecoilsaway，awayfromallhumancontact。Silently，patiently，hewasrecoilingawayfromherevennow。Itwasthestillness，andthetimelesssortofpatience，inamanimpatientandpassionate，thattouchedConnie’swomb。
　　Shesawitinhisbenthead，thequickquiethands，thecrouchingofhisslender，sensitiveloins；somethingpatientandwithdrawn。Shefelthisexperiencehadbeendeeperandwiderthanherown；muchdeeperandwider，andperhapsmoredeadly。Andthisrelievedherofherself；shefeltalmostirresponsible。
　　Soshesatinthedoorwayofthehutinadream，utterlyunawareoftimeandofparticularcircumstances。Shewassodriftedawaythatheglancedupatherquickly，andsawtheutterlystill，waitinglookonherface。
　　Tohimitwasalookofwaiting。Andalittlethintongueoffiresuddenlyflickeredinhisloins，attherootofhisback，andhegroanedinspirit。
　　Hedreadedwitharepulsionalmostofdeath，anyfurtherclosehumancontact。
　　Hewishedaboveallthingsshewouldgoaway，andleavehimtohisownprivacy。Hedreadedherwill，herfemalewill，andhermodernfemaleinsistency。
　　Andaboveallhedreadedhercool，upper-classimpudenceofhavingherownway。Forafterallhewasonlyahiredman。Hehatedherpresencethere。
　　Conniecametoherselfwithsuddenuneasiness。Sherose。Theafternoonwasturningtoevening，yetshecouldnotgoaway。Shewentovertotheman，whostoodupatattention，hiswornfacestiffandblank，hiseyeswatchingher。
　　`Itissonicehere，sorestful，’shesaid。`Ihaveneverbeenherebefore。’
　　`No？’
　　`IthinkIshallcomeandsitheresometimes。
　　`Yes？’
　　`Doyoulockthehutwhenyou’renothere？’
　　`Yes，yourLadyship。’
　　`DoyouthinkIcouldhaveakeytoo，sothatIcouldsitheresometimes？
　　Aretheretwokeys？’
　　`NotasAhknowon，ther’isna。’
　　Hehadlapsedintothevernacular。Conniehesitated；hewasputtingupanopposition。Wasithishut，afterall？
　　`Couldn’twegetanotherkey？’sheaskedinhersoftvoice，thatunderneathhadtheringofawomandeterminedtogetherway。
　　`Another!’hesaid，glancingatherwithaflashofanger，touchedwithderision。
　　`Yes，aduplicate，’shesaid，flushing。
　　`’AppenSirClifford’udknow，’hesaid，puttingheroff。
　　`Yes!’shesaid，`hemighthaveanother。Otherwisewecouldhaveonemadefromtheoneyouhave。Itwouldonlytakeadayorso，Isuppose。
　　Youcouldspareyourkeyforsolong。’
　　`Ahcannatellyer，m’Lady!Ahknownob’dyasma’eskeysround’ere。’
　　Conniesuddenlyflushedwithanger。
　　`Verywell!’shesaid。`I’llseetoit。’
　　`Allright，yourLadyship。’
　　Theireyesmet。Hishadacold，uglylookofdislikeandcontempt，andindifferencetowhatwouldhappen。Herswerehotwithrebuff。
　　Butherheartsank，shesawhowutterlyhedislikedher，whenshewentagainsthim。Andshesawhiminasortofdesperation。
　　`Goodafternoon!’
　　`Afternoon，myLady!’Hesalutedandturnedabruptlyaway。Shehadwakenedthesleepingdogsofoldvoraciousangerinhim，angeragainsttheself-willedfemale。Andhewaspowerless，powerless。Heknewit!
　　Andshewasangryagainsttheself-willedmale。Aservanttoo!Shewalkedsullenlyhome。
　　ShefoundMrsBoltonunderthegreatbeech-treeontheknoll，lookingforher。
　　`Ijustwonderedifyou’dbecoming，myLady，’thewomansaidbrightly。
　　`AmIlate？’askedConnie。
　　`OhonlySirCliffordwaswaitingforhistea。’
　　`Whydidn’tyoumakeitthen？’
　　`Oh，Idon’tthinkit’shardlymyplace。Idon’tthinkSirCliffordwouldlikeitatall，myLady。’
　　`Idon’tseewhynot，’saidConnie。
　　ShewentindoorstoClifford’sstudy，wheretheoldbrasskettlewassimmeringonthetray。
　　`AmIlate，Clifford？’shesaid，puttingdownthefewflowersandtakingupthetea-caddy，asshestoodbeforethetrayinherhatandscarf。`I’msorry!Whydidn’tyouletMrsBoltonmakethetea？’
　　`Ididn’tthinkofit，’hesaidironically。`Idon’tquiteseeherpresidingatthetea-table。’
　　`Oh，there’snothingsacrosanctaboutasilvertea-pot，’saidConnie。
　　Heglancedupathercuriously。
　　`Whatdidyoudoallafternoon？’hesaid。
　　`Walkedandsatinashelteredplace。Doyouknowtherearestillberriesonthebigholly-tree？’
　　Shetookoffherscarf，butnotherhat，andsatdowntomaketea。Thetoastwouldcertainlybeleathery。Sheputthetea-cosyoverthetea-pot，androsetogetalittleglassforherviolets。Thepoorflowershungover，limpontheirstalks。
　　`They’llreviveagain!’shesaid，puttingthembeforehimintheirglassforhimtosmell。
　　`SweeterthanthelidsofJuno’seyes，’hequoted。
　　`Idon’tseeabitofconnexionwiththeactualviolets，’shesaid。
　　`TheElizabethansareratherupholstered。’
　　Shepouredhimhistea。
　　`DoyouthinkthereisasecondkeytothatlittlehutnotfarfromJohn’sWell，wherethepheasantsarereared？’shesaid。
　　`Theremaybe。Why？’
　　`Ihappenedtofindittoday——andI’dneverseenitbefore。Ithinkit’sadarlingplace。Icouldsittheresometimes，couldn’tI？’
　　`WasMellorsthere？’
　　`Yes!That’showIfoundit：hishammering。Hedidn’tseemtolikemyintrudingatall。InfacthewasalmostrudewhenIaskedaboutasecondkey。’
　　`Whatdidhesay？’
　　`Oh，nothing：justhismanner；andhesaidheknewnothingaboutkeys。’
　　`TheremaybeoneinFather’sstudy。Bettsknowsthemall，they’reallthere。I’llgethimtolook。’
　　`Ohdo!’shesaid。
　　`SoMellorswasalmostrude？’
　　`Oh，nothing，really!ButIdon’tthinkhewantedmetohavethefreedomofthecastle，quite。’
　　`Idon’tsupposehedid。’
　　`Still，Idon’tseewhyheshouldmind。It’snothishome，afterall!
　　It’snothisprivateabode。Idon’tseewhyIshouldn’tsitthereifI
　　wantto。’
　　`Quite!’saidClifford。`Hethinkstoomuchofhimself，thatman。’
　　`Doyouthinkhedoes？’
　　`Oh，decidedly!Hethinkshe’ssomethingexceptional。Youknowhehadawifehedidn’tgetonwith，sohejoinedupin1915andwassenttoIndia，Ibelieve。AnyhowhewasblacksmithtothecavalryinEgyptforatime；
　　alwayswasconnectedwithhorses，acleverfellowthatway。ThensomeIndiancoloneltookafancytohim，andhewasmadealieutenant。Yes，theygavehimacommission。IbelievehewentbacktoIndiawithhiscolonel，anduptothenorth-westfrontier。Hewasill；hewasapension。Hedidn’tcomeoutofthearmytilllastyear，Ibelieve，andthen，naturally，itisn’teasyforamanlikethattogetbacktohisownlevel。He’sboundtoflounder。Buthedoeshisdutyallright，asfarasI’mconcerned。OnlyI’mnothavinganyoftheLieutenantMellorstouch。’
　　`HowcouldtheymakehimanofficerwhenhespeaksbroadDerbyshire？’
　　`Hedoesn’t……exceptbyfitsandstarts。Hecanspeakperfectlywell，forhim。Isupposehehasanideaifhe’scomedowntotheranksagain，he’dbetterspeakastheranksspeak。’
　　`Whydidn’tyoutellmeabouthimbefore？’
　　`Oh，I’venopatiencewiththeseromances。They’retheruinofallorder。
　　It’sathousandpitiestheyeverhappened。’
　　Conniewasinclinedtoagree。Whatwasthegoodofdiscontentedpeoplewhofittedinnowhere？
　　InthespelloffineweatherClifford，too，decidedtogotothewood。
　　Thewindwascold，butnotsotiresome，andthesunshinewaslikelifeitself，warmandfull。
　　`It’samazing，’saidConnie，`howdifferentonefeelswhenthere’sareallyfreshfineday。Usuallyonefeelstheveryairishalfdead。Peoplearekillingtheveryair。’
　　`Doyouthinkpeoplearedoingit？’heasked。
　　`Ido。Thesteamofsomuchboredom，anddiscontentandangeroutofallthepeople，justkillsthevitalityintheair。I’msureofit。’
　　`Perhapssomeconditionoftheatmospherelowersthevitalityofthepeople？’hesaid。
　　`No，it’smanthatpoisonstheuniverse，’sheasserted。
　　`Foulshisownnest，’remarkedClifford。
　　Thechairpuffedon。Inthehazelcopsecatkinswerehangingpalegold，andinsunnyplacesthewood-anemoneswerewideopen，asifexclaimingwiththejoyoflife，justasgoodasinpastdays，whenpeoplecouldexclaimalongwiththem。Theyhadafaintscentofapple-blossom。ConniegatheredafewforClifford。
　　Hetookthemandlookedatthemcuriously。
　　`Thoustillunravishedbrideofquietness，’hequoted。`ItseemstofitflowerssomuchbetterthanGreekvases。’
　　`Ravishedissuchahorridword!’shesaid。`It’sonlypeoplewhoravishthings。’