ONE:The barred gates of the Fleet prison flew open before the assailants, and the wretched inmates felt their feverish temples once more cooled by the pure breath of liberty. At about a hundred paces from the Fleet, they passed a house, having the bush suspended in front, indicating its possessor to be a vintner; and the host himself, with singular foolhardiness, stood looking out from the open casement of the first story.
TWO:He looked forward to William coming back and settling down at Odiam. It would be good to have companionship again. The end of the war was in sightonly a guerilla campaign was being waged among[Pg 426] the kopjes, Kruger had fled from Pretoria, and everyone talked of Peace.
ONE:One day she was in the dairy at Odiam, skimming the cream-pans. The sunshine, filtered to a watery yellow by the March afternoon, streamed in on her, putting a yellow tinge into her white skin and white apron. Her hair was the colour of fresh butter, great pats and cakes of which stood on the slabs beside her. There was a smell of butter and standing milk in the cold, rather damp air. Naomi skimmed the cream off the pans and put it into a brown bowl.
TWO:Reuben was pleased with the impression he had made. He was now working definitely. At first he had merely drifted, drawn by the charm of the female creature, so delicate, soft and weak. Then commonsense had taken the rudderhe had seen Naomi's desirableness from a practical point of view; she was young, good-looking, sound if scarcely robust, well dowered, and of good familyfit in every way to be the mother of his children. Since Harry was debarred from marrying her, his brother could even more profitably take his place. Her money would then go direct to his ambition; he realised the enormous advantage of a little reserve capital and longed for a relaxation of financial strain. The Gassons were an old and respected family, and an alliance with them would give lustre to Odiam. Also he wanted children. He was fond of Naomi for her own sake. Poor little chicken! Her weakness appealed to him, and he rather enjoyed seeing her fluttering before his feet.At the same time he tantalised Reuben with vague hints of enthusiasm, sometimes almost making him think that, undependable and careless as he was, he had in him certain germs of understanding. But these were mere promises that were never fulfilled. Albert would whet Reuben's hopes by asking him questions about the country round: Why was such and such a farm called Stilliand's Tower or Puddingcake? Why were there about six places called Iden Green within a square of twenty miles? Was there any story to account for the names of Mockbeggar, Golden Compasses, Castweasel, or Gablehook? But directly Reuben digressed from these general questions to the holy particulars of Odiam and Boarzell, he would lose his interest and at last even his attention, escaping into some far-wandering dream.
