Anna hailed a bus. “Child!” he cried. ‘This journey I do not like,’ she said more loudly. She would take this one back with her. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. It is to set me right with Winifred. She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief.
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