THREE:At last he wandered desperately away, treading the furrows of his new ground on Boarzell, reckless that he trod the young seed harrowed into them. In that black moment even his winter crops were nothing to him. He saw, thought of, realised only one thingand that was Rose, the false, the gay, the wanton, and the beautifuloh the beautiful!laughing at him from another man's arms. He could see her laughing, see just how her lips parted, just how her teeth shonethose little teeth, so regular except for the pointed caninesjust how the dimples came at the corners of her mouth, those dear little hollows which he had dug with his kisses...."Well, of course, if she has a thorough rest from all work and worry, and recovers her health in the meantime, I don't say that in three or four years.... But she's not a strong subject, Mr. Backfield, and you'd do well to remember it."