Then Byron fell in love. He fell in love against all the tradition of his austere and jealous country raising which <required in the object of>
love physical inviolability, since the woman was [illegible] about 9 months with child. It is Saturday p.m. <He is alone at the mill, [loading a car?]> Two
miles away the house is still burning, the yellow smoke standing straight as a monument. They saw it from the mill when it first rose <from>
above the trees, the horizon, before the noon whistle and the others prepared to leave. "I reckon Bryon'll quit too, today, with a fire to look at," one
said. Byron didn't answer.

"It's a big fire," another said. "What can it be? I don't remember anything out that way big enough to make that much smoke except the Burden house."

"Maybe that's what it is," another said. "<I can remember> My pappy says he can remember how 50 years ago folks said it ought to be burned, and [them?] in
it."

"Maybe your pappy slipped out there and set it afire," the [second?] said. They laughed. They they went back to work, [pausing?] now and then to look at the
smoke. After a while a truck drove up. They asked him, he had come through town.