A young man with shiny frock coat and very high collar, advanced towards her languidly. There was first the Avenue, which ran in a consciously elegant curve from the railway station into an undeveloped wilderness of agriculture, with big, yellow brick villas on either side, and then there was the pavement, the little clump of shops about the postoffice, and under the railway arch was a congestion of workmen’s dwellings. That was one of the compensations for having consigned himself to this part of the world. Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full. It was there in the breast pocket, stiff and legal looking. But he was always forcing her to say and do such unexpectedly conclusive things. "Hear me!" cried Thames, bursting into tears.
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