The Warden showed no sign now of haste or excitement; he had regained his usual courteous and deliberate manner, for the purpose of his life was his again. He helped her in and followed her. The door was banged behind them. There was May's little bundle of rug and umbrella on the seat. He moved it on one side so that she could sit there. The train began to slide off.
May sank into her seat too dazed to think. He sat down opposite to her. They both knew that the moment of their lives had come.
Then he leaned forward, not caring whether he was observed or not observed from the other end of the carriage. He leaned forward and grasping both of May's hands in his, he looked into her eyes with his own slow moving, narrow eyes that absorbed the light. The corners of her mouth were trembling, her eyelids trembling.
They never spoke a word as the train moved away and left behind that fair ancient city enshrined in squalor and in raucous brick; left behind the flat meadows, the sluggish river and the leafless crooked willows; but a strange glory came from the west and flooded the whole earth and the carriage where they sat.
THE END
PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES, ENGLAND
Transcriber's Note
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected, with the exception of those contained within letters, which are thought to be deliberate.