‘Tell me about the convent? Were you happy there? They were kind to you, the nuns?’ ‘Oh, but yes. ‘This is not a place for a man. He carried a small bag. Arrived at Westbourne-Green—then nothing more than a common covered with gorse and furzebushes, and boasting only a couple of cottages and an alehouse—he perceived through the hedges the objects of his search slowly ascending the gentle hill that rises from KensallGreen. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. Some shadow of reserve seemed to have crept up between them. ’ As if to bear her out, the door opened at this precise moment to admit Saling, who barely announced Captain Roding before the man himself strode into the room. “Wasn’t Parliament to reassemble?” He put out his hand and leaned against a tree and crossed his legs. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms.
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