Everywhere the brown leaves lay scattered; many scarlet hips stood upon the hedge beside the wood.

He gathered a few for her to wear.
"Though, really," he said, as he fitted them into the breast of her coat, "you ought to object to my getting them, because of the birds.
But they don't care much for rose-hips in this part, where they can get plenty of stuff.

You often find the berries going rotten in the springtime." So he chattered, scarcely aware of what he said, only knowing he was putting berries in the bosom of her coat, while she stood patiently for him.

And she watched his quick hands, so full of life, and it seemed to her she had never SEEN anything before.

Till now, everything had been indistinct.
They came near to the colliery.