Doomsday by Warwick Deeping

Furze had finished his milking and his tea. He was standing by the west window of the living-room, filling a pipe, and the window commanded the end of the lane and the field gate of the "Gore."

He saw her come down the lane, lift the catch of the gate, open it, pass into the field, and close the gate after her. She had a deliberate air. She did not glance in the direction of the house.