Well was it for those who could get away! Never had the spring been
sourer; Easter came so early as itself to seem untimely, and the
Wednesday of its week was bleakness itself, as Lance and Robina stood
on the top of the viaduct over the railway, looking over the parapet
at the long perspective of rails and electric wires their faces
screwed up, and reddened in unnatural places by the bitter blast.
Felix had asked at breakfast if any one would be the bearer of a note
to Marshlands; Lance had not very willingly volunteered, because no
one else would; then Robina joined him, and they had proceeded
through the town without a syllable from either of the usually lively
tongues, till as they stood from force of habit watching for a train,
the following colloquy took place, Robina being the first speaker.
'What is it?'
'What is what?'
'What is the matter?'
'What is the matter with what?'
'With it all?'
There came a laugh, but Robina returned to the charge. 'Well, but
what is it? Is it east wind?'
'Something detestable--whatever it is,' grunted Lance.
'You've found it so too,' said Robina; for Lance had only come home
after evening cathedral the day before.
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