‘It is to say goodbye, you understand. But it sounds too real to be imagined. She fixed her eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the valley for the white smoke of the train. Will you forgive me—if I say no more?” She looked at him with perplexed, earnest eyes. My mind is full of ideas and images that I have been cherishing and accumulating—dreams of travelling side by side, of lunching quietly together in some jolly restaurant, of moonlight and music and all that side of life, of seeing you dressed like a queen and shining in some brilliant throng—mine; of your looking at flowers in some old-world garden, our garden—there are splendid places to be got down in Surrey, and a little runabout motor is quite within my means. I never even burrowed down into the trunk. I had no idea you were not the happiest girl. You see I am rather obstinate. See paragraph 1.
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