He was looking only at the wood he was cutting, but he never observed that he was cutting it.

After a minute he uttered his conclusion.
"Ye'll stay wi' me." "_Stay_ with you," she cried, her breath catching at her words--"for how long ?" "I don't know." Complete indifference was in his tone.

"Till ye're old, I suppose; for I'm not likely to find a better place for ye." All the force of her nature was in the words she cast at him.
"_I'll not stay_." "No ?" he sneered in heavy, even irony.

"Will ye cry on the neighbours to fetch ye away ?" She did not need to turn her head to see the wild loneliness of hill and lake.

It was present to her mind as she leaned on the rough wooden lintel, looking into the shed.
"Or," continued he, "will ye go a-visiting.