Instead of her, only this old apple tree! He flung his
arms round the trunk. What a substitute for her soft body; the rough
moss against his face--what a substitute for her soft cheek; only the
scent, as of the woods, a little the same! And above him, and around,
the blossoms, more living, more moonlit than ever, seemed to glow and
breathe.
7
Descending from the train at Torquay station, Ashurst wandered
uncertainly along the front, for he did not know this particular queen
of English watering places. Having little sense of what he had on, he
was quite unconscious of being remarkable among its inhabitants, and
strode along in his rough Norfolk jacket, dusty boots, and battered
hat, without observing that people gazed at him rather blankly. He was
seeking a branch of his London bank, and having found one, found also
the first obstacle to his mood. Did he know anyone in Torquay? No. In
that case, if he would wire to his bank in London, they would be happy
to oblige him on receipt of the reply. That suspicious breath from the
matter-of-fact world somewhat tarnished the brightness of his visions.
But he sent the telegram.
Nearly opposite to the post office he saw a shop full of ladies'
garments, and examined the window with strange sensations.
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