She wasn't a maa'iden from any of the farms of the moors, for I know them all.

But it weren't till this marning that I got a kind of notion who she was.

I dropped into the _Tolpen Arms_ to have a drop of something for a cawld I've got, and some of the fishermen were talkin' about th' old gentleman of Flint House blowing his head off last night with a gun.

It made me feel queery-like when I heerd aboot it.

'Why,' I says, 'that'll be about the time I saw the strange young womon in ol' Crows' wagonette.