“But you’ll keep the tenderness for me, won’t you?” she whispered. “I loved last night. But you’ll keep the tenderness for me, won’t you?”

He kissed her and held her close for a moment. Then he sighed, and kissed her again.

“I must go an’ look if th’ car’s there.”

He strode over the low brambles and bracken, leaving a trail through the fern. For a minute or two he was gone. Then he came striding back.

“Car’s not there yet,” he said. “But there’s the baker’s cart on t’ road.”

He seemed anxious and troubled.

“Hark!”

They heard a car softly hoot as it came nearer. It slowed up on the bridge.