ere for
this embrace--how they all kept taking Ciccio's hand, one after the
other, whilst he smiled constrainedly and nervously.

CHAPTER XIV

THE JOURNEY ACROSS

The train began to move. Giuseppe ran alongside, holding Ciccio's
hand still; the women and children were crying and waving their
handkerchiefs, the other men were shouting messages, making strange,
eager gestures. And Alvina sat quite still, wonderingly. And so the
big, heavy train drew out, leaving the others small and dim on the
platform. It was foggy, the river was a sea of yellow beneath the
ponderous iron bridge. The morning was dim and dank.

The train was very full. Next to Alvina sat a trim Frenchwoman
reading _L'Aiglon_. There was a terrible encumbrance of packages and
luggage everywhere. Opposite her sat Ciccio, his black overcoat open
over his pale-grey suit, his black hat a little over his left eye.
He glanced at her from time to time, smiling constrainedly. She
remained very still. They ran through Bromley and out into the open
country. It was grey, with shivers of grey sunshine. On the downs
there was thin snow. The air in the train was hot, heavy with the
crowd and tense with excitement and uneasiness. The train seemed to
rush ponderously, massively, across the Weald.

And so, through Folkestone to the sea. There was sun in the sky now,
and white clouds, in the sort of hollow sky-dome above the grey
earth with its horizon walls of fog. The air was still. The sea
heaved with a sucking noise inside the dock. Alvina and Ciccio sat
aft on the second-class deck, their bags near them. He put a white
muffler round himself, Alvina hugged herself in her beaver scarf and
muff. She looked tender and beautiful in her still vagueness, and
Ciccio, hovering about her, was beautiful too, his estrangement gave
him a certain wistful nobility which for the moment put him beyond
all class inferiority. The passengers glanced at them across the
magic of estrangement.

The sea was very still. The sun was fairly high in the open sky,
where white cloud-tops showed against the pale, wintry blue. Across
the sea came a silver sun-track. And Alvina and Ciccio looked at the
sun, which stood a little to the right of the ship's course.

"The sun!" said Ciccio, nodding towards the orb and smiling to her.

"I love it," she said.

He smiled again, silently. He was strangely moved: she did not know
why.

The wind was cold over the wintry sea, though the sun'