I sat on the back-seat of the
dog-cart; Nancy was beside Edward. They talked about the way
the cob went; Edward pointed out with the whip a cluster of deer
upon a coombe three-quarters of a mile away. We passed the
hounds in the level bit of road beside the high trees going into
Fordingbridge and Edward pulled up the dog-cart so that Nancy
might say good-bye to the huntsman and cap him a last sovereign.
She had ridden with those hounds ever since she had been
thirteen.
The train was five minutes late and they imagined that that was
because it was market-day at Swindon or wherever the train came
from. That was the sort of thing they talked about. The train came
in; Edward found her a first-class carriage with an elderly woman
in it. The girl entered the carriage, Edward closed the door and
then she put out her hand to shake mine. There was upon those
people's faces no expression of any kind whatever. The signal for
the train's departure was a very bright red; that is about as
passionate a statement as I can get into that scene. She was not
looking her best; she had on a cap of brown fur that did not very
well match her hair. She said:
"So long," to Edward.
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