If it were summer time, she thought, I would walk to the Forest and sleep out under the stars....
But it was November.... She decided to travel up to the City and spend the night in one of the waiting-rooms at the big terminals. The next day she would look out for lodgings.... Money was a difficulty. In her pocket was a purse containing the residue of the week’s house-keeping money. It amounted to five and sevenpence half-penny. There were also a couple of penny stamps....
The ideal time for this enterprise would have been a Monday evening in June or July.
Still, she would have to make the best of it. With light step she passed along the wide expanse of the High Street in the direction of Bockley Station. As she went on little groups of returning revellers passed her by. Most of them had just come in by train from the City after an evening at the theatre. Some of them stared at her curiously as she hurried by. So did the policeman at the corner of the Station Road.
Outside the booking-office she met, of all people in the world, Helen Trant.... Since the episode between herself and George, Catherine had not seen much of Helen.
Catherine nodded casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to be catching the 11.37 p.m. to the City.
“Where’re you off to?” said Helen.
“City,” replied Catherine, curtly.
“Whatever for at this time of night?”
“Oh ... business ... that’s all. ... Excuse me, I shall miss my train....”