"He's gone, Nancy."

"In anger?"

"He's gone; I don't care whether he's gone in anger or not."

"Did he tell you he saw me?"

"Yes."

"And did you promise him not to tell on him? To Jane? To any one?"

"No." Gillespie stood holding a bucket of milk in his hand; she sat
gathering her shawl under her chin as if she were still coming through the
suncleft shadows of the woods pasture.

"Oh, David!"

"What do you want me to do, Nancy?"

"I don't know, I don't know. I haven't slept all night."

"You mustn't give way like this. Don't you see any duty for you in this
matter?"

"Duty? Oh, David!" Her heart forboded the impossible demand upon it.

Gillespie set his bucket of milk down beside the spring. "Nancy," he
said, "a woman cannot have two husbands. It's a crime against the State.