He seemed to have shrunken in his seat. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation. A crutch, with a silver handle, stood by her side, proving the state of extreme debility to which she was reduced. I know there’s a sort of right in your impatience at the slowness of Progress. ‘She’s an eviltempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought. I can’t even carry a tune with a bucket. Could she understand what she was talking about? Luckily it was a second-class carriage and the ordinary fellowtravellers were not there. It is you who took my name, not I yours. The road from Surbiton and Epsom ran under the arch, and, like a bright fungoid growth in the ditch, there was now appearing a sort of fourth estate of little redand-white rough-cast villas, with meretricious gables and very brassy windowblinds.
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