“I suppose it will be teaching, I’m not sure. Anything that turns up.”
“I see,” she said.
They went on down in silence for a time.
“I suppose you will come up again?” he asked.
“I may try the botanical again—if they can find room. And, I was thinking—sometimes one hears of things. What is your address? So that if I heard of anything.”
Lewisham stopped on the staircase and thought. “Of course,” he said. He made no effort to give her the address, and she demanded it again at the foot of the stairs.
“That confounded nephridium—!” he said. “It has put everything out of my head.”
They exchanged addresses on leaflets torn from Miss Heydinger’s little note-book.
She waited at the Book in the hall while he signed his name. At the iron gates of the Schools she said: “I am going through Kensington Gardens.”
He was now feeling irritated about the addresses, and he would not see the implicit invitation. “I am going towards Chelsea.”