CHAPTER XXXIVChagford lay fast asleep in the drowsy afternoon light; it hardly stirred as a stray motor flashed through it, or the old cobblestones echoed to the footsteps of one of its slow-paced citizens. The sunshine smouldered on the grey stone walls, the trim gardens blazed with colour. But after the gate of the doctor's surgery clicked behind Jean, everything wore a more adventurous and less drowsy air.
The earth under her feet had a buoyant substance and the sleepy high street thrilled with invisible life. Jean walked along sedately, but she felt too happy for such a crowded place.
She told her wildly beating heart that the birth of a child couldn't have the romantic simplifications of her radiant visions; and yet she could not drive them from her thirsting eyes. She passed swiftl
