"What do I do now?"

"You go north. Straight ahead. Turn down the fifth or sixth lane on your
right--you'll see the sign-post. Then the first lane on your left.
That'll bring you out at the top of the hill."

"Thanks. Thanks most awfully." He raised his hat, backing from her,
holding her in his eyes till he turned.

He would be out of sight now at the pace he was going; his young,
slender, skimming stride.

She stood on the top of the rise and looked round. He was halting down
there at the bend by the grey cone of the lime kiln under the ash-tree.
He had turned and had his face towards her. Above his head the battleship
sailed on its green field.

He began to come back, slowly, as if he were looking for something
dropped on his path; then suddenly he stopped, turned again and was gone.

There was no wire from Gwinnie. She had waited a week now. She
wondered how long it would be before Gwinnie's mother's lumbago gave
in and let her go.

* * * * *

She knew it by heart now, the long, narrow coffee-room of the hotel. The
draped chimney piece and little oblong gilt-framed mirror at one end; at
the other the bowed window looking west on to the ash-tree and the