We shall be in the fields and lanes in an hour, crossing over into the sunset, and we shall feel the purity and beauty of things breathe full in our faces again.'
'And so,' said Hastings a little dreamily, 'you are married. Have you any children?'
'Yes, three; two boys and a girl, though (happily) the girl comes in the middle in point of order.'
'Talk to me,' murmured Hastings; 'tell me about yourself. Do you know what I feel,' he added, with vague, sad eyes regarding the stream of foot-passengers, 'as I sit here in this luxurious carriage, and watch the pale and piteous faces? Oh, you will have much, very much, to explain to me!'
'Dear man, do you already repent that you trusted me?'
'No, no. I trust you; indeed I do. But it is hard. Perhaps some of those women in shawls there …' The vision of the lugubrious procession to the gate of Felixstowe rose before him.
'Oh, talk to me!' he said quickly. 'Tell me all about yourself! What did you do when I left England? Who is your wife? Is she beautiful? Was it she who made you believe in the Established Fact and fight for it? Weak women can do it to the strongest men, just as the fragile ground-creeper grows to strangle the giant tropical tree, and blooms
