The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. If you don’t think it would be a social outrage, perhaps I might walk with you to your railway station. If they become bad it is through inclination, not necessity. She must not tell Martha about Gerald. Of course, it really signified nothing in this careless part of the world that she was travelling alone. And this great mellow place, this London, now was hers, to struggle with, to go where she pleased in, to overcome and live in. ‘Then we will beg. And yet to Spurlock it was only the title of a story he would some day write. “I hope you realize,” he went on, in a lower and less assured tone, “that I am in earnest—very much in earnest.
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