"Where to, master?" asked Ben, touching his woollen cap. She wished to view Sebastian again if only to reaffirm that there was a human being whose appearance remained unaltered by the vagaries of time and memory. Arrived at Westbourne-Green—then nothing more than a common covered with gorse and furzebushes, and boasting only a couple of cottages and an alehouse—he perceived through the hedges the objects of his search slowly ascending the gentle hill that rises from KensallGreen. It was apparent, and then it faded into the quality of an inevitable necessity. Its importance had vanished with her abandonment of compromise. The clouds were nearly black with rain, threatening to spill sleet in daggers and torrents.
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