You may go back, Marthe. ‘I went to see him because I thought he ought to know about you, having already been imposed upon by our friend Gosse. "You do love me?" "God knows how much!" Suddenly he laid his head on her shoulder. There was first the Avenue, which ran in a consciously elegant curve from the railway station into an undeveloped wilderness of agriculture, with big, yellow brick villas on either side, and then there was the pavement, the little clump of shops about the postoffice, and under the railway arch was a congestion of workmen’s dwellings. They went to the gate and stopped there, gabbed with their men, and didn’t even dismount. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously.
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