"You are going" she asked, "to London?"
"To London," he repeated dreamily. "Yes."
"But your luggage--was that left behind?"
He smiled.
"I have no luggage," he said. "You are going up for the day only?" she
hazarded.
He shook his head. There was a note of triumph almost in his tone.
"I am going for good," he said. "If wishes count for anything I shall
never set foot within this county again."
There was a story, she felt sure, connected with this strange
fellow-passenger of hers. She watched him thoughtfully. A human
document such as this was worth many novels. It was not the first time
that he had excited her interest.
"London" she said, "is a wonderful place for young men."
He turned a rapt face towards her. The fire seemed leaping out of his
eyes.
"Others have found it so," he said. "I go to prove their words."
"You are a stranger there, then?"
"I have never been further south than this in my life," he replied. "I
know only the London of De Quincey and Lamb-London with the halo of
romance around it."
She sighed gently.
"You will find it all so different," she said. "You will be bitterly
disappointed."
He set his lips firmly together.
"I have no fear," he said. "I shall find it possible to live there, at
any rate.
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