‘You do not think it is enough English. ” He nodded twice, with his eyes on the fire, as though that was a formal statement. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. By now the horses would be rested and he might go as swiftly back again. And so bitterly did the carpenter reproach himself with his neglect, that he resolved, at all risks, to go back in search of it. I hate myself!” She collapsed to the floor, sobbing. After feasting his eye upon this superb panorama, he was about to return, when he ascertained from a farmer that his nearest road to Willesden would be down a lane a little further on, to the right. She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction.
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