They went down Hollow Stone, and he took the car for the Bridges.
"You will just have supper with me," he said: "then I'll bring you back." "Very well," she replied, low and husky.
They scarcely spoke while they were on the car.

The Trent ran dark and full under the bridge.

Away towards Colwick all was black night.

He lived down Holme Road, on the naked edge of the town, facing across the river meadows towards Sneinton Hermitage and the steep scrap of Colwick Wood.

The floods were out.