"Oh, Jude!" She clasped his hand with both hers, and her tense state caused her to simmer over in a little succession of dry sobs. "I—I am so glad! I get out here?"
"No. I get in, dear one! I've packed. Besides this bag I've only a big box, which is labelled."
"But don't I get out? Aren't we going to stay here?"
"We couldn't possibly, don't you see. We are known here—I, at any rate, am well known. I've booked for Aldbrickham; and here's your ticket for the same place, as you have only one to here."
"I thought we should have stayed here," she repeated.
"It wouldn't have done at all."
"Ah!—perhaps not."
"There wasn't time for me to write and say the place I had decided on. Aldbrickham is a much bigger town—sixty or seventy thousand inhabitants—and nobody knows anything about us there."
"And you have given up your Cathedral work here?"
"Yes. It was rather sudden—your message coming unexpectedly. Strictly, I might have been made to finish out the week. But I pleaded urgency, and I was let off. I would have deserted any day at your command, dear Sue. I have deserted more than that for you!"
"I fear I am doing you a lot of harm. Ruining your prospects of the Church; ruining your progress in your trade; everything!"
"The Church is no more to me. Let it lie. I am not to be one of
"'The soldier-saints who, row on row.
Burn upward each to his point of bliss,'"
if any such there be! My point of bliss is not upward, but here."
"Oh, I seem so bad—upsetting men's courses like this!" said she, taking up in her voice the emotion that had begun in his. But she recovered her equanimity by the time they had travelled a dozen miles.
