the shops. Besides, Victoria was too much
absorbed in gazing at London rolling and swirling beneath her, belching
out its crowds of workers and pleasure seekers from every tube and main
street. At every shop the omnibus seemed surrounded by a swarm of angry
bees. Victoria watched them struggle with spirit still unspoiled,
wondering at the determination on the faces of the men, at the
bitterness painted on the sharp features of the women as they savagely
thrust one another aside and, dishevelled and dusty, successively
conquered their seats. All this, the constant surge of horse and
mechanical conveyances, the shrill cries of the newsboys flashing pink
papers like _chulos_ at an angry bull, the roar of the town, made
Victoria understand the city. Something like fear of this strong
restless people crept into her as she began to have a dim perception
that she too would have to fight. She was young, however, and the
feeling was not unpleasant. Her nerves tingled a little as she thought
of the struggle to come and the inevitable victory at the end.

Victoria's spirits had not subsided even when she entered Gower Street.
Its immensity, its interminable length frightened her a little. The
contrast between it, so quiet, dignified and dull, and the inferno she
had just left behind her impressed her with a sense of security. Its
houses, however, seemed so high and dirty that she wondered, looking at
its thousand windows, whether human beings could be cooped up thus and
yet retain their humanity.

Here Edward was a little more in his element. With a degree of animation
he pointed to the staid beauty of Bedford Square. He demanded admiration
like a native guiding a stranger in his own town. Victoria watched him
curiously. He was a good fellow but it was odd to hear him raise his
voice and to see him point with his stick. He had always been quiet, so
she had not expected him to show as much interest as he did in his old
surroundings.

'I suppose you had a good time when you were here?' she said.

'Nothing special. I was too busy at the school,' he replied. 'But, of
course, you know, one does things in London. It's not very lively at
Cray.'

'Wouldn't you like to leave Cray,' she said, 'and come back?'

Edward paused nervously. London frightened him a little and the idea of
leaving Cray suddenly thrust upon him froze him to the bone. It was not
Cray he loved, but Cray meant a life passing gently away by the side of
a few belo