I don't want you of all people to get on my nerves." "Let me carry your bag," said Septimus, "and you had better have my stick." The process of transference brought to his consciousness the fact of his bareheadedness.

He put on his cap and they trudged along the road like gipsy man and wife, saying not a word to each other.

For two miles they proceeded thus, sometimes in utter blackness when the road wound between thick oak plantations, sometimes in the lesser dimness of the open when it passed by the rolling fields; and not a sign of human life disturbed the country stillness.

Then they turned into the London road and passed through a village.

Lights were in the windows.