He took out his watch.
"And it's ten past six now."
He sat down, turning his chair so as not to see her face. He did not, at the moment, care to look at her.
"You might go and ask Mrs. Gale to send me in a cup of tea."
Alice went out.
XXXIV
"It's a quarter past six now," she said to herself. "They must come back from Bar Hill by Upthorne. I shall meet them at Upthorne if I start now."
She slipped her rough coat over the new gown and started.
Her fear drove her, and she went up the hill at an impossible pace.
She trembled, staggered, stood still and went on again.
The twilight of the unborn moon was like the horrible twilight of dreams. She walked as she had walked in nightmares, with knees, weak as water, that sank under her at every step.