And how many a time, in how many situations, had he incurred this form of self-reproach! When a week went by without anything more from Alma, Harvey ceased to trouble.

As the fates directed, so be it.

He began to pack the books which he would take with him into Wales.
One day he found himself at Kensington High Street, waiting for a City train.

In idleness, he watched the people who alighted from carriages on the opposite side of the platform, and among them he saw Alma.

On her way towards the stairs she was obliged to pass him; he kept his position, and only looked into her face when she came quite near.