“So long, Nobby!”
“Good luck, Peter!”
Joan put the car into gear, and steered out into the road.
“The water-splash is lower than ever I’ve seen it,” said Peter.
They ran down the road to the station almost in silence. “These poplars have got a touch of autumn in them already,” said Peter.
“It’s an early year,” said Joan.
“The end, the end!” sang the song in Joan’s brain. “But I’ll tell him all the same.”...
But she did not tell him until they could hear the sound of the approaching train that was to cut the thread of everything for Joan. They walked together up the little platform to the end.
“I’m sorry you’re going,” said Joan.
“I’m infernally sorry. If I’d known you’d get this week——”