The moon was melting down upon the crest of the hill.

It was gone; all was dark.

The corncrake called still.
Breaking off a pink, he suddenly went indoors.
"Come, my boy," said his mother.

"I'm sure it's time you went to bed." He stood with the pink against his lips.
"I shall break off with Miriam, mother," he answered calmly.
She looked up at him over her spectacles.

He was staring back at her, unswerving.