A little comforted, she came to her own room, undressed and dropped a few tears.
If he could have known how very unlike his Cambridge this place was! Too late now.... There was not a spire, not a light of Cambridge to be seen, not a whisper to be heard. Almost she could believe something Childe Rolandish had happened to it and it was gone; so that even its unseen nearness was no comfort.
‘Come in,’ she said in startled response to a tap at her door. Someone stood there in a dressing-gown, with bright hair rolling over her shoulders.
‘Oh!’ cried Judith in uncontrollable rapture. ‘I did hope....’
They gazed at each other, blushing and radiant.
‘I saw you at Hall.’
‘I sat at the wrong table. It was awful.’
‘I wish you’d been sitting beside me.... What’s your name?’
‘Judith Earle. What’s yours?’