“But it’s lovely here,” she said. “Such a beautiful stillness, everything alive and still.”

He was eating again, rather slowly and unwillingly, and she could feel he was discouraged. She made the tea in silence, and set the teapot on the hob, as she knew the people did. He pushed his plate aside and went to the back place; she heard a latch click, then he came back with cheese on a plate, and butter.

She set the two cups on the table, there were only two.

“Will you have a cup of tea?” she said.

“If you like. Sugar’s in th’ cupboard, an’ there’s a little cream-jug. Milk’s in a jug in th’ pantry.”

“Shall I take your plate away?” she asked him. He looked up at her with a faint ironical smile.