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Show WORTHING FARM/10 elbows and hands flailing, connecting more often than not. He got her to the door, his anger turned to fury by the pain of her blows, and he threw her against it. She struck so violently that the door snapped open, and she fell inside. Elijah stepped over her as she lay whimpering with pain in the doorway. Holding her under the arms, he dragged her in. As soon as he let go, she stood up and headed for the door. He threw her to the ground. She got up and walked to the door. He hit her and she fell to the ground again. On her knees she crawled to the door, and he thrust her back with his foot. Silent except for her heavy breathing, she pulled herself wearily to her feet, and started to walk toward the door. Elijah screamed at her then, and beat her again and again until she lay bleeding on the floor and Elijah, exhausted, knelt over her, sobbing in shame and pain and love for her. Softly he spoke, out loud this time, but she didn't hear, though her breath still came in short, hard gasps, "We can't leave. Worthing Farm is us, and if it dies, we die," he said, and then hated the words and himself and the farm and the forest and the air that would never weep until all his tears had been shed. He turned from his wife and looked out the door. In the doorway his two sons stood watching. Their eyes wide, and as he walked toward the door they shied away, and as he reached the door they ran. They stopped twenty paces off and watched him. Stop watching me, he thought, but they didn't hear him. He walked to the south shed and stood on a cask to clamber to the low roof. He crawled along the thatch until he reached the roof of the |