be preceeded by some arrival along the road, and in default of sight there would be only sound to warn him of this coming.
He had grown, in the three weeks which he had spent upon the farm, very familiar with the road. It came to him, a dusty track, over the top of the hill, it descended to a level sandy stretch, and in the distance it ascended another hill and vanished. Few vehicles passed along the road; there was occasionally an automobile and a little more frequently a springless farm-wagon. His soul abhorred the farm-yard where the chickens nestled in the dust, but the road gave him a sense of horror. The definite disappearance of its two ends over the hills epitomized his loneliness. By day, he sat against the house wall, concealed by a laburnum bush, and watched for someone to come past on it; by night, when darkness settled on the little farmhouse and no light blinked anywhere in sight, it was the recollection of the empty road which would not let him sleep. It made him think of streets where high buildings stood closely side by side, of pavements thundering with vehicles,
