might have been if I hadn't come to this beastly town. Hope I'm not boring
you...."

He stopped as though he had suddenly realised that his companion had not
said a word. They were pushing now up the hill into the market-place and
the mist was now so thick that they could scarcely see one another's face.
Falk was thinking. "To-morrow evening.... What do I want? What's going to
happen? What do I want?"

The silence made him conscious of his companion.

"What do you say?" he asked.

"Hope I'm not boring you."

"No, that's all right. Where are we?"

"Just coming into the market."

"Oh, yes."

"If I talk a lot it's because I haven't had any one to talk to for weeks.
Not that I want to talk to any one. I despise the lot of them. Conceited
set of ignorant parrots.... Whole place run by women and what can you
expect? You're not staying here, I suppose. I heard you'd had enough of
Oxford and I don't wonder. No place for a man, beautiful enough but spoilt
by the people. _Damn_ people--always coming along and spoiling
places. Now there's the Cathedral, most wonderful thing in England, but
does any one know it? Not a bit of it. You'd think they fancied that the
Cathedral _owes_ them something--about as much sense of beauty as a