In solitude, in contemplation, the heart sounds the depths of its own bitterness. Solitude brings peace for the worker who has a task to fulfil which its special conditions make imperative, or for the mystic, already detached so far from earth that human longings can no longer reach him. But in the restless and passionate spirit, it breeds new restlessness and passion. Only the glare of the world can blot out certain dreams and visions, only the hum of Vanity Fair stifle the voice that calls in darkness. Bareheaded, her hair stirred by the light breeze, hardly conscious of where she was going, Evelyn walked on and on, looking neither to right nor left. Dusk deepened and found her still searching aimlessly for peace which had for ever escaped her. She had eaten nothing since morning, and now it was nearly nine o’clock. Physically spent and broken by the struggle, exhausted and fainting, she knew suddenly that she could not walk a step further. There was an opening in the little wood beyond which offered temporary shelter. She was making her way to it, blindly groping in the darkness, when from behind she saw two great lights sweep rapidly upon her, like an animal on its prey. She gave a startled cry. The car slowed down; the man who was driving it got down. It was Farquharson. How did he guess who it was? Trembling, she turned to meet him. He lit a match and held it in front of her, looking straight into her eyes as it burned out. He was pale, and his mouth was set in the determined lines she knew. "So you thought you could escape me!" he said, laughing. It seemed to Evelyn afterwards that years passed in the moment he held her to him, stifling her fluttering cry with the torrent of his words. "You ran away, did you? That was very cowardly, Eve. Didn’t you know I should move heaven and earth to find you? As a matter of fact, no heroics were necessary; I asked Brand for your address last night and got it at once." The explanation was so typical! "I have been trying to get to you all day; I came here, in fact, two hours ago, but they didn’t know at the cottage where you had gone, so since then I’ve been chasing you all over the county." He took her face in his hands; he could not see its expression, but he felt her quiver. "I’ve learnt a lot of things since I saw you last, Evelyn," he said, very gently. "You can’t go on living with your husband, that’s one thing. I can’t go on living without you, that’s another. Where are the matches?" He let go of her to light up again; even in that moment it struck her how unlike the things that happen in real life are to the scenes in books. His eyes were alight with triumph; there was no tragedy here, only joy. He asked no questions, he was sure of himself and sure of her, strong in the hope of victory.