rose from stooping over the earth。 He was ing out of the near
distance。 She set down her sheaves to make a new stook。 They
were unsure。 Her hands fluttered。 Yet she broke away； and turned
to the moon； which laid bare her bosom； so she felt as if her
bosom were heaving and panting with moonlight。 And he had to put
up her two sheaves； which had fallen down。 He worked in silence。
The rhythm of the work carried him away again； as she was ing
near。
They worked together； ing and going； in a rhythm； which
carried their feet and their bodies in tune。 She stooped； she
lifted the burden of sheaves； she turned her face to the dimness
where he was； and went with her burden over the stubble。 She
hesitated； set down her sheaves； there was a swish and hiss of
mingling oats； he was drawing near； and she must turn again。 And
there was the flaring moon laying bare her bosom again； making
her drift and ebb like a wave。
He worked steadily； engrossed； threading backwards and
forwards like a shuttle across the strip of cleared stubble；
weaving the long line of riding shocks； nearer and nearer to the
shadowy trees； threading his sheaves with hers。
And always； she was gone before he came。 As he came； she drew
away； as he drew away； she came。 Were they never to meet？
Gradually a low； deep…sounding will in him vibrated to her；
tried to set her in accord； tried to bring her gradually to him；
to a meeting； till they should be together； till they should
meet as the sheaves that swished together。
And the work went on。 The moon grew brighter； clearer； the
corn glistened。 He bent over the prostrate bundles； there was a
hiss as the sheaves left the ground； a trailing of heavy bodies
against him； a dazzle of moonlight on his eyes。 And then he was
setting the corn together at the stook。 And she was ing
near。
He waited for her； he fumbled at the stook。 She came。 But she
stood back till he drew away。 He saw her in shadow； a dark
column； and spoke to her； and she answered。 She saw the
moonlight flash question on his face。 But there was a space
between them； and he went away； the work carried them；
rhythmic。
Why was there always a space between them； why were they
apart？ Why； as she came up from under the moon； would she halt
and stand off from him？ Why was he held away from her？ His will
drummed persistently； darkly； it drowned everything else。
Into the rhythm of his work there came a pulse and a steadied
purpose。 He stooped； he lifted the weight； he heaved it towards
her； setting it as in her； under the moonlit space。 And he went
back for more。 Ever with increasing closeness he lifted the
sheaves and swung striding to the centre with them； ever he
drove her more nearly to the meeting； ever he did his share； and
drew towards her； overtaking her。 There was only the moving to
and fro in the moonlight； engrossed； the swinging in the
silence； that was marked only by the splash of sheaves； and
silence； and a splash of sheaves。 And ever the splash of his
sheaves broke swifter； beating up to hers； and ever the splash
of her sheaves recurred monotonously； unchanging； and ever the
splash of his sheaves beat nearer。
Till at last； they met at the shock； facing each other；
sheaves in hand。 And he was silvery with moonlight； with a
moonlit； shadowy face that frightened her。 She waited for
him。
〃Put yours down；〃 she said。
〃No； it's your turn。〃 His voice was twanging and
insistent。
She set her sheaves against the shock。 He saw her hands
glisten among the spray of grain。 And he dropped his sheaves and
he trembled as he took her in his arms。 He had over…taken her；
and it was his privilege to kiss her。 She was sweet and fresh
with the night air； and sweet with the scent of grain。 And the
whole rhythm of him beat into his kisses； and still he pursued
her； in his kisses； and still she e。 He
wondered over the moonlight on her nose！ All the moonlight upon
her； all the darkness within her！ All the night in his arms；
darkness and shine； he possessed of it all！ All the night for
him now； to unfold； to venture within； all the mystery to be
entered； all the discovery to be made。
Trembling with keen triumph； his heart was white as a star as
he drove his kisses nearer。
〃My love！〃 she called； in a low voice； from afar。 The low
sound seemed to call to him from far off； under the moon； to him
who was unaware。 He stopped； quivered； and listened。
〃My love；〃 came again the low； plaintive call； like a bird
unseen in the night。
He was afraid。 His heart quivered and broke。 He was
stopped。
〃Anna；〃 he said； as if he answered her from a distance；
unsure。
〃My love。〃
And he drew near； and she drew near。
〃Anna；〃 he said； in wonder and the birthpain of love。
〃My love；〃 she said； her voice growing rapturous。 And they
kissed on the mouth； in rapture and surprise； long； real kisses。
The kiss lasted； there among the moonlight。 He kissed her again；
and she kissed him。 And again they were kissing together。 Till
something happened in him； he was strange。 He wanted her。 He
wanted her exceedingly。 She was something new。 They stood there
folded； suspended in the night。 And his whole being quivered
with surprise； as from a blow。 He wanted her； and he wanted to
tell her so。 But the shock was too great to him。 He had never
realized before。 He trembled with irritation and unusedness； he
did not know what to do。 He held her more gently； gently； much
more gently。 The conflict was gone by。 And he was glad； and
breathless； and almost in tears。 But he knew he wanted her。
Something fixed in him for ever。 He was hers。 And he was very
glad and afraid。 He did not know what to do； as they stood there
in the open； moonlit field。 He looked through her hair at the
moon； which seemed to swim liquid…bright。
She sighed； and seemed to wake up； then she kissed him again。
Then she loosened herself away from him and took his hand。 It
hurt him when she drew away from his breast。 It hurt him with a
chagrin。 Why did she draw away from him？ But she held his
hand。
〃I want to go home；〃 she said； looking at him in a way he
could not understand。
He held close to her hand。 He was dazed and he could not
move； he did not know how to move。 She drew him away。
He walked helplessly beside her； holding her hand。 She went
with bent head。 Suddenly he said； as the simple solution stated
itself to him：
〃We'll get married； Anna。〃
She was silent。
〃We'll get married； Anna； shall we？〃
She stopped in the field again and kissed him； clinging to
him passionately； in a way he could not understand。 He could not
understand。 But he left it all now； to marriage。 That was the
solution now； fixed ahead。 He wanted her； he wanted to be
married to her； he wanted to have her altogether； as his own for
ever。 And he waited； intent； for the acplishment。 But there
was all the while a slight tension of irritation。
He spoke to his uncle and aunt that night。
〃Uncle；〃 he said； 〃Anna and me think of getting married。〃
〃Oh ay！〃 said Brangwen。
〃But how； you have no money？〃 said the mother。
The youth went pale。 He hated these words。 But he was like a
gleaming； bright pebble； something bright and inalterable。 He
did not think。 He sat there in his hard brightness； and did not
speak。
〃Have you mentioned it to your own mother？〃 asked
Brangwen。
〃No……I'll tell her on Saturday。〃
〃You'll go and see her？〃
〃Yes。〃
There was a long pause。
〃And what are you going to marry on……your pound a
week？〃
Again the youth went pale； as if the spirit were being
injured in him。
〃I don't know；〃 he said； looking at his uncle with his bright
inhuman eyes； like a hawk's。
Brangwen stirred in hatred。
〃It needs knowing；〃 he said。
〃I shall have the money later on；〃 said the nephew。 〃I will
raise some now； and pay it back then。〃
〃Oh ay！……And why this desperate hurry？ She's a child of
eighteen； and you're a boy of twenty。 You're neither of you of
age to do as you like yet。〃
Will Brangwen ducked his head and looked at his uncle with
swift； mistrustful eyes； like a caged hawk。
〃What does it matter how old she is； and how old I am？〃 he
said。 〃What's the difference between me now and when I'm
thirty？〃
〃A big difference； let us hope。〃
〃But you have no experience……you have no experience； and
no money。 Why do you want to marry； without experience or
money？〃 asked the aunt。
〃What experience do I want； Aunt？〃 asked the boy。
And if Brangwen's heart had not been hard and intact with
anger； like a precious stone； he would have agreed。
Will Brangwen went home strange and untouched。 He felt he
could not alter from what he was fixed upon； his will was set。
To alter it he must be destroyed。 And he would not be destroyed。
He had no money。 But he would get some from somewhere； it did
not matter。 He lay awake for many hours； hard and clear and
unthinking； his soul crystallizing more inalterably。 Then he
went fast asleep。
It was as if his soul had turned into a hard crystal。 He
might tremble and quiver and suffer； it did not alter。
The next morning Tom Brangwen； inhuman with anger spoke to
Anna。
〃What's this about wanting to get married？〃 he said。
She stood； paling a little