'Thomas? What-'
'It's Meg!'
It's Meg. It's always Meg. It's only Meg.
So John shuts the door to the rented house and runs with Thomas, out of the town, no time to get a horse, following a path, winding through domesticated fields, until they come to a little thatched house, with a near, orderly garden, like something out of England if it wasn't for the three wild sunflowers which have taken root within the tidy fence.
John runs ahead, to the door, pounds upon it.
The evening is sinking into twilight, as a woman opens the door.
