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his lips. “Give me time,” she said. “I am sure you can be wonderfully gentle, Owen.”
    â€œSummer will be over soon, mind,” he said. “It will be cold on the mountain when autumn comes.”
    â€œI don’t mean to tease.” She turned her head to rest her cheekagainst his shoulder. “I just don’t want to go yet, Owen.” But part of her did want it. She wanted the reassurance of a man’s loving. She had liked that part of marriage with Gwyn—except for that one time on the mountain. There was comfort in being that close to another human being.
    â€œNext week I’ll be asking again, mind,” he said. “You are the prettiest woman in Cwmbran, Siân Jones, married or single.”
    She smiled at him. “And you are the handsomest man, Owen Parry,” she said.
    He kissed her again, briefly. “Home now, then, is it?” he said. “And early rising for the morning shift?”
    She nodded and smiled ruefully.
    â€œAh, Siân,” he said, bending his head close to hers once more, “you were not made to be down the mine, girl.”
    â€œNo man or woman was,” she said, “but we all need to eat.” She linked her arm through his and raised her face to the sunset. She breathed in fresh air once more before they descended the hill to the town. She hoped she would be able to sleep. She hoped that by some miracle her terrors were unfounded.

3

    A LEX took his daughter for a walk during the evening. She should have been going to bed, according to her nurse, but she was fretful and he felt guilty for having left her alone all day. She had had nothing to do beyond exploring as much of the house and the park as her nurse had allowed. Apparently her nurse was rather fearful of Wales and the Welsh and had not given her a great deal of freedom.
    Alex took her to walk on the hills. They looked very different in the light of evening, he found, the heather brightened on their side of the valley by the rays of the evening sun. Last night seemed now rather like a dream.
    It was definitely picturesque, he thought, stopping to gaze down into the valley and across the river to the hills opposite. Verity clung quietly to his hand. Picturesque and peaceful. A different world. It seemed that he must be separated by oceans and continents from his own world. But it felt strangely good to be here. Perhaps in time he would come to understand the industry on which the wealth of the property depended. Perhaps he would come to know the people who lived and worked here. Perhaps he would be content to stay for a while.
    â€œWhat are they doing, Papa?” Verity was pointing downward.
    He smiled. He had noticed them too, the couple below, though he had kept his eyes off them until now. They obviously thought themselves unobserved.
    â€œThey are kissing,” he said. “Men and women do that when theyare considering marrying each other. And when they are married. It is to show that they care for each other.”
    â€œLike you kiss me at bedtime,” she said. “But you do not take so long about it, Papa.”
    â€œIt is a little different with men and women,” he said. “But we must not stare and intrude on their privacy, even if they cannot see us. What do you think?” With a sweep of one arm he indicated the slope about them, the valley below, and the hills and sunset opposite.
    â€œI think it is very lovely, Papa,” she said, “though I do not like all that smoke coming from those chimneys down there.” She wrinkled her nose and pointed to the ironworks, where the furnaces were kept lit day and night. “I think Grandmama was wrong, though. She said we were coming to the back of beyond, and she made it sound like somewhere no one would wish to be.”
    He smiled. The setting sun was turning the sky orange behind the hills opposite and was making a gold ribbon of the river. He glanced down