“Don’t come nearer!” she said. ‘But do you not see that he will come again? I think it is better if you, both of you, go and leave me here to find—’ She broke off, looking away. We don’t want things to happen. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. ‘Well, if that’s what the good Lord wants, then you’ll just have to accept it. Wood in the deepest mourning. As a matter of fact it isn’t their affair. The only thing that was louder to her was the beating of his heart.
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