CHAPTER XIJames Hardwick drove up from the station, and thought that for once in a way the tail end of an English summer was doing itself proud. The weather looked like lasting too. Tomorrow he and Carmona would swim out to the Point and take their time about coming back.
Carmona! In less than ten minutes he would be seeing her again. When he was away from her, this was what he looked forward to—this moment of anticipation when he could savour to the full the thought that he was coming home. Every meeting held the romance and the promise of the first time, when they had not really met at all but he had looked across the crowded theatre and loved her.
They turned in at the hot cement drive. He paid off his taxi and walked up the steps between the empty urns and into the hall, which seemed
