The book must wait till she came back.
On Thursday the exodus from town had not yet begun.

They left soon after breakfast.

As Mary hurried from her Kensington flat to Paddington Station she met the church-goers with their prayer-books in their hands.
It was Holy Thursday, to be sure--a day for solemn thought and thanksgiving.

She hoped hers would not be less acceptable because it was made in the quietness of the fields.
It was an exquisite day of April--true Holy Week weather, with white clouds, like lambs straying in the blue pastures of the sky, shepherded by the south-west wind.

The almond trees were in bloom.