A brisk breeze scurried low on the ground, ruffling through the stiff brown grass on the moors with a whispering sound. It was after four o’clock, and I was walking aimlessly, hoping the exercise would relieve some of the tension I had felt ever since Maud left. The wind caught the hems of my skirt and petticoats and caused them to billow, and my hair whipped like long golden ribbons about my head. I sensed a certain animosity about the land, as though it were savagely aware of my presence and resented it. Climbing a slope behind the house, I turned to look back. The house seemed frighteningly unprotected in the middle of all these barren acres, while beyond, over the hill, Castlemoor seemed a huge, bulky monster eager to snarl mightily and sweep down to devour the timid little dwelling. I went down the other side of the slope, and both places disappeared. I walked carefully over the hard grayish-brown earth with its chalky patches. Small rocks and bits of shell crunched beneath my shoes.
