They show her everything, except the Cuttle Well; they often go there alone.

The well is sacred to the memory of first love.

You may walk from the well to the round cemetery in ten minutes.

It is a common walk for those who go back.
First love is but a boy and girl playing at the Cuttle Well with a bird's egg.

They blow it on one summer evening in the long grass, and on the next it is borne away on a coarse laugh, or it breaks beneath the burden of a tear.