'Oh, you've got the 'ump, you 'ave!' finished Sally, rather angrily.

The beer had restored Liza: she went back to work without a headache,
and, except for a slight languor, feeling no worse for the previous
day's debauch. As she worked on she began going over in her mind the
events of the preceding day, and she found entwined in all her
thoughts the burly person of Jim Blakeston. She saw him walking by her
side in the Forest, presiding over the meals, playing the concertina,
singing, joking, and finally, on the drive back, she felt the heavy
form by her side, and the big, rough hand holding hers, while Tom's
arm was round her waist. Tom! That was the first time he had entered
her mind, and he sank into a shadow beside the other. Last of all she
remembered the walk home from the pub, the good nights, and the rapid
footsteps as Jim caught her up, and the kiss. She blushed and looked
up quickly to see whether any of the girls were looking at her; she
could not help thinking of that moment when he took her in his arms;
she still felt the roughness of his beard pressing on her mouth. Her
heart seemed to grow larger in her breast, and she caught for breath
as she threw back her head as if to receive his lips again. A shudder
ran through her from the vividness of the thought.

'Wot are you shiverin' for, Liza?' asked one of the girls. 'You ain't
cold.'

'Not much,' answered Liza, blushing awkwardly on her meditations being
broken into. 'Why, I'm sweatin' so--I'm drippin' wet.'

'I expect yer caught cold in the Faurest yesterday.'