The pendulum swung in natures steadied by conflict; the plunging moment came, went, and, without any conscious volition, left them shuddering from the final and now inevitable victory, but looking again down the long vista. It was mechanically that Geoffrey unlocked his arms, rose, and moved away.
Her little travelling clock ticked, eagerly it seemed, on the mantelpiece.
“Just half-past three,” said Geoffrey.
Felicia went to the window.
“The rain has stopped,” she said. “We can walk to the station in less than an hour.”
Geoffrey, his hand on the mantelpiece, looked into the fire. “Don’t you want something to eat? Some tea?”
“No; do you?”
“No, thanks.”
“I will put on my hat and coat; I will be only a moment.” She went to the door while Geoffrey said—
“We can catch the fast afternoon train. We shall be in London by six.”