. . .What am I doing out here?" Fitz asked himself. "I'm drunk, that's why." He stood still and he could feel his heart beating. Something was moving in the midden and grunting.

"It's a pig, I suppose," said the Irishman. "They're all over the place." Then he thought of the dog that had bit Bubb. "Will it bite me?" he questioned and moved hurriedly across the farmyard towards the gable end of the building. He stood there for a second to draw breath, then he went round to the back of the house.

All were not yet in bed, a light burned behind a small four-paned window and the shadow of a girl showed on the blind. Standing a little distance from the window, Fitzgerald stared at the shadow, watching its movements. For a moment he had a view of a face in profile, then of a head bent down and an arm stretching out as if pulling a needle from a piece of cloth. The girl no . . . Read More