. ” He rowed a stroke and watched the swirl of water from his oar broaden and die away. “Vee,” she said, “come home. " Upon which, he plunged his oars deeply into the stream, and the bark shot from the strand. ‘I knowed he were a wrong ’un, but that. He addressed her by that title, and something in the tone disturbed her. "What is it you want?" she asked, as she held out the coat. He came to her and stood before her, waiting, the morning light dazzling his eyes. When they started getting on each other’s nerves, she blamed herself at first.
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