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’ Her lashes fluttered. And yet—I love you. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. ‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. They don’t count, and I don’t care. “Good-bye, John,” she said simply. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. “John, you were never bound to me, you don’t owe me anything. Later on—well then the time may come. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. It occurred to her that it was absurd and wrong to be so continuously thinking of one engrossing topic, and she made a strenuous effort to force her mind to other questions.
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