It seemed he met a pair of brown eyes which hated him.

But he did not know.

He and Clara turned away, mechanically taking the direction to the station.
The train had gone.

He would have to walk the ten miles home.
"It doesn't matter," he said.

"I shall enjoy it." "Won't you," she said, flushing, "come home for the night?
I can sleep with mother." He looked at her.