Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. They conversed, or more or less she interviewed him. The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished. Daybreak found her winding her painful way along the Harrow Road; and, in order to shorten the distance as much as possible, she took the nearest cut, and struck into the meadows on the right.
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