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He plunged headlong into a rambling description of Bonover and how he had told a lie about her and called her Miss Smith, and so escaped this unaccountable emotional crisis.... The whispering of the rain about them sank and died, and the sunlight struck vividly across the distant woods beyond Immering. Just then they had fallen on a silence again that was full of daring thoughts for Mr. Lewisham.
Lewisham, tapping his breast-pocket. "This lane," he said their talk was curiously inconsecutive "some way along this lane, over the hill and down, there is a gate, and that goes I mean, it opens into the path that runs along the river bank. Have you been?" "No," she said. "It's the best walk about Whortley. It brings you out upon Immering Common. You must before you go."
"I'm sorry, old chap," said Mr. Fotheringay, and then realising the awkward nature of the explanation, caught nervously at his moustache. He saw Winch, one of the three Immering constables, advancing. "What d'yer mean by it?" asked the constable. "Hullo! It's you, is it? The gent that broke the lamp at the Long Dragon!" "I don't mean anything by it," said Mr. Fotheringay. "Nothing at all."
It was after they left Immering that this ramble, properly speaking, became scandalous. The sun was already a golden ball above the blue hills in the west it turned our two young people into little figures of flame and yet, instead of going homeward, they took the Wentworth road that plunges into the Forshaw woods.
Behind them the moon, almost full, hung in the blue sky above the tree-tops, ghostly and indistinct, and slowly gathered to itself such light as the setting sun left for it in the sky. Going out of Immering they began to talk of the future. And for the very young lover there is no future but the immediate future. "You must write to me," he said, and she told him she wrote such silly letters.
The little shop in Immering lay back behind a garden full of wallflowers, and was kept by a very fat and very cheerful little woman, who insisted on regarding them as brother and sister, and calling them both "dearie." These points conceded she gave them an admirable tea of astonishing cheapness.
He moved his arm suddenly and placed it so that it was behind her on the frame of the harrow. "Let us go on now," she said abruptly. "The rain has stopped." "That little path goes straight to Immering," said Mr. Lewisham. "But, four o'clock?" He drew out his watch, and his eyebrows went up. It was already nearly a quarter past four.
Lewisham restrained an impulse to shout. "You will come to Immering?" he cried, and as they went along the narrow path through the wet grass, he began to tell her with simple frankness how he cared for her company, "I would not change this," he said, casting about for an offer to reject, "for anything in the world.... I shall not be back for duty. I don't care.
They struck boldly across the meadows, which were gay with lady's smock, and he walked, by special request, between her and three matronly cows feeling as Perseus might have done when he fended off the sea-monster. And so by the mill, and up a steep path to Immering Common. Across the meadows Lewisham had broached the subject of her occupation.
"I'm sorry, old chap," said Mr. Fotheringay, and then, realising the awkward nature of the explanation, caught nervously at his moustache. He saw Winch, one of the three Immering constables, advancing. "What d'yer mean by it?" asked the constable. "Hullo! it's you, is it? The gent that broke the lamp at the Long Dragon!" "I don't mean anything by it," said Mr. Fotheringay. "Nothing at all."
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