Now I understand why you always used to choose your holidays in November.' She thrilled him with her friendly recollection of his customs.
'As to happiness, the looking forward is happiness,' he remarked.
'Oh, the looking back! back!' she cried.
'Forward! that is life.' 'And backward, death, if you will; and still at is happiness.

Death, and our postillion!' 'Ay; I wonder why the fellow hangs to the rear,' said Redworth, turning about.
'It's his cunning strategy, poor creature, so that he may be thought to have delivered us at the head of the town, for us to make a purchase or two, if we go to the inn on foot,' said Diana.

'We 'll let the manoeuvre succeed.' Redworth declared that she had a head for everything, and she was flattered to hear him.
So passing from the southern into the western road, they saw the town-lights beneath an amber sky burning out sombrely over the woods of Copsley, and entered the town, the postillion following..