“Dear me!” he said. The path he had selected conducted him to his mother's humble dwelling. Activity in the hall intensified. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. " He stuffed the printed chintz into her arms and smiled into her eyes. She was posing before the mirror, critically, miserably, defensively, and perhaps bewilderedly. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. . She looked at her flattened belly. Certainly he could not move now other than to announce the fact that he had found his man. “I couldn’t help it. “And if she can’t have the right one? “We’ve developed such a quality of preference!” She rubbed her knuckles into her forehead.
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