She cried as he watched, frozen to the ground. ’ ‘All the way to England?’ She opened wide eyes. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. The big gray spaces of London, the shop-lit, greasy, shining streets, had become very remote; the biological laboratory with its work and emotions, the meetings and discussions, the rides in hansoms with Ramage, were like things in a book read and closed. ‘Too late by the time I realised to what a dunderhead I’d pledged my friendship.
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