"Tom," continued Kneebone, calling to the shop-boy, "don't go home. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. I’ve no name for it yet. I must go to-night, or I shall never behold him again. Others pulled hats over their noses, cowered in their seats, and feigned that all was right with the world. ’ ‘It’s too late for that,’ Gerald told her evenly.
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