Because their human lives were so short, the happily married had no time to get sick of one another. Sheppard let fall her basket. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. The day was warm even under an overcast sky and Hilary, uncomfortable, shifted his weight. Impassive by nature and training, he was conscious to-night of a strange sense of excitement, of exhilaration tempered by a dull background of disappointment. They sat face to face beneath an experienced-looking rucksack and a brand new portmanteau and a leather handbag, in the afternoon-boat train that goes from Charing Cross to Folkestone for Boulogne. "I was going to die, Hoddy!" she whispered. ” “I hope that you may,” Anna answered enigmatically. She wasn’t sure of herself when she said it.
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