night. Quite. It was kind of you to come, but you must go back. Life is hard enough as it is . . . You must go back at the end of the road. Go back at the end of the road . . ."
Lewisham made no reply for a hundred yards. "I'm coming on to Clapham," he said.
They came to the end of the road in silence. Then at the kerb corner she turned and faced him. "Go back," she whispered.
"No," he said obstinately, and they stood face to face at the cardinal point of their lives.
"Listen to me," said Lewisham. "It is hard to say what I feel. I don't know myself. . . . But I'm not going to lose you like this. I'm not going to let you slip a second time. I was awake about it all last night. I don't care where you are, what your people are, nor very much whether you've kept quite clear of this medium humbug. I don't. You will in future. Anyhow. I've had a day and night to think it over. I had to come and try to find you. It's you. I've never forgotten you. Never. I'm not going to be sent back like this."
"It can be no good for either of us," she said as resolute as he.
"I shan't leave you."
"But what is the good? . . ."
"I'm coming," said Lewisham, dogmatically.
And he came.
