It was one of those moments when the familiar appears
strange and grotesque. Then, gathering all her resolution, she said--
'No, no; it is impossible! Come back, come back.'
He caught her arm: quietly and firmly he led her across the road. 'You must
listen to me.... We are about to take a decisive step. Are you sure
that----'
'No, no, Hubert, I cannot; let us return home.'
'I go back to Ashwood! If I did, I should commit suicide.'
'Don't speak like that.... Where will you go?'
'I shall travel.... I shall visit Italy and Greece.... I shall live
abroad.'
'You are not serious?'
'Yes, I am, Julia. That cab may not take both, but it certainly will take
one of us away from Ashwood, and for ever.'
'Take you to Southwater, sir--take you to the station in ten minutes,' said
the fly-man, pulling in his horse. A zig-zag fugitive thought passed: why
did the fly-man speak of taking them to the station? How was it that he
knew where they wanted to go? They stopped and wondered. The poor horse's
bones stood out in strange projections, the round-shouldered little fly-man
sat grinning on his box, showing three long yellow fangs. The vehicle, the
horse, and the man, his arm raised in questioning gesture, appeared in
strange silhouette upon the grey clouds, assuming portentous aspect in
their tremulous and excited imaginations.
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