'True. I shouldn't like to think that you regard me as a Fadge-
like individual, a natural Fadgeite.'

Marian laughed.

'There's no danger of my thinking that.'

But the fog was making their eyes water and getting into their
throats. By when they reached Tottenham Court Road they were both
thoroughly uncomfortable. The 'bus had to be waited for, and in
the meantime they talked scrappily, coughily. In the vehicle
things were a little better, but here one could not converse with
freedom.

'What pestilent conditions of life!' exclaimed Jasper, putting
his face rather near to Marian's. 'I wish to goodness we were
back in those quiet fields--you remember?--with the September sun
warm about us. Shall you go to Finden again before long?'

'I really don't know.'

'I'm sorry to say my mother is far from well. In any case I must
go at Christmas, but I'm afraid it won't be a cheerful visit.'

Arrived in Hampstead Road he offered his hand for good-bye.

'I wanted to talk about all sorts of things. But perhaps I shall
find you again some day.'