And then the other,
placing stones over the mounds to keep the wolves off. There were no
other adornments to give them. And even as they worked, the clouds
thickened and turned to rain, as if Nature wept, to see the unending
tragedy of Man.
Sixteen
"May I take you back to the hut," Stephen said when they had laid the
last stone. "I have much on my conscience already. I would see you
safely home, at least." He could say no more, nor did she wish him to.
They rode back in silence, and in silence they parted.
With silence, too, did she greet her mother, who asked no questions,
but only welcomed her with a strange, apologetic smile. Hardly able to
notice, let alone dissect the mysterious change in her, Mary shed her
wet and tattered garments, then hung her cloak by the fire to dry. As
she put on the nightgown the old woman provided she said blankly, and
bitterly.
"James Talbert is dead. I must go and tell Anne this evening. Please
don't wake me until then." She lay listlessly in the bed, and after a
long, empty passage of time, fell asleep.
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