His reverie was broken by a voice.
'How gloomy the rain is here! One doesn't mind it in London; there's always something to do and somewhere to go.' It was Paula.

Egremont could not help showing amusement.
'Do you stay much longer ?' he asked.
'I don't know.' She spoke with indifference, keeping her eyes averted.
'I must catch the mail at Penrith this evening,' he said.

'I'm afraid it will be a wet drive.' 'You're going, are you?
Not to Jersey again, I hope?
'Why not ?' 'It seems to make people very dull.

I shall warn all my friends against it.' She hummed an air and left him.
Late in the afternoon Egremont took leave of his friends.

Mr.Newthorpe went out into the rain, and at the last moment shook hands with him heartily.