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Updated: June 28, 2025
I'll answer all questions in the morning." "No, I think I'll have the answers now." He went on questioning her, and his hands growing heavier crushed her shoulders so that she thought he would break the bones and joints. "What train did you come up by this morning?" "The nine o'clock." "What! D'you mean you went right across from North Ride to Rodchurch Road?" "Oh, no.
All Rodchurch had seemed anxious to assist Mr. and Mrs. Dale in contriving their little maid's holiday. "And it is nice," said Mavis simply, "to be treated like that." Mrs. Norton had taken her all round the vicarage garden, and she had never seen it looking nicer. "Although the flowers aren't anything to boast of, any more than ours are." "And what do you think?
Then, at the sound of a voice behind him, he felt a little shiver run down his spine, like the cold touch of superstitious fear. It was only Norah calling to him. She had come out into the rain to tell him that Mavis Dale had gone to Rodchurch and could not be back to tea. A lassitude descended upon him.
"Yes, but that's just what she doesn't do;" and Mavis explained that, in spite of repeated orders, Norah had several times gone mooning off into the woods all by herself. "So now I'm reminding her, and asking where she means to go this afternoon." Norah, with her eyes on the flags, said that she would go to Rodchurch. "Very good," said Mavis. "Then now you've answered, you may go."
Dale had ceased to be postmaster of Rodchurch; the purchase of the business had been completed; and Mr. Bates had moved out of Vine-Pits to a cottage near Otterford Mill, leaving behind him the bulk of his furniture as the property of the incomers. Thus the Dales would have no difficulty in furnishing the comparatively large house that henceforth was to be their home.
I have nothing left now for cadgers, sneak-thieves, and other outsiders." She was a woman steadily completing her cycle. In fact, with her added weight, broadened contours and settled mental equilibrium, she had so changed from the slim, pallid, childish Mrs. Dale of the post office that any old Rodchurch friends might be forgiven for saying that they could scarcely recognize her.
It required a walk of two fat miles to get to Rodchurch, and one had to start early if one did not want to arrive there hot and flustered; again there was the risk of rain overtaking one in one's best dress. Every fine Sunday she used to talk at breakfast of intending to go to the morning service; and at dinner of intending to go to the evening service.
Besides, Waterloo was a station he should never once have showed his nose in; the link between Waterloo and home was too close his own line the railway whose staff was replenished by people from his own part of the country. While he was feeling glad that the passengers were strangers, perhaps a porter was saying to a mate: "There goes the postmaster of Rodchurch. He and I were boys together.
That night there seemed to be a tremendous lot of drunkenness in Rodchurch, and when the Gauntlet Inn closed you could hear the shouting as far off as the post office. But next day the village was quietly drowsy as of old: it had got over its excitement. Weeks passed, and for Mavis time began to glide.
He intended to travel by the mail train the train that left Waterloo at ten-fifteen, and went through the night dropping post-bags all the way down the line; and it was extremely improbable that he would meet any Rodchurch friends in this train, but he understood that the dangerous part of his proceedings would begin when he got to Waterloo, and he was a little worried, even muddled, as to how and where to change his clothes or rather to put on that canvas suit over his ordinary clothes.
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