He got out of the taxi swiftly. No, the train was there and the platform was sprinkled with people--some men in khaki; many women. He was just in time, but only just--not in time to help her, or to speak with her or say anything more than just "Good-bye." A sudden rage filled him. He ran his eyes along the whole length of the platform. She was probably seated in a carriage already, reading, Oxford forgotten perhaps! In that case why was he hurrying like this? Why was he raging? No, there she was! The sight of her made his heart beat wildly. She was there, standing by an open carriage door, looking wistfully along the platform, looking for him! A porter was slamming the doors to already. The Warden strode along and came face to face with her. Under the large brimmed hat and through the veil, he could see that she had turned ashy pale. They stared for a moment at each other desperately, and he could see that she was trembling. The porter laid his hand on the door. "Are you getting in, m'm?" Only a week ago the Warden had committed the one rash and foolish action of his life. He had done it in ignorance of his own personal needs and with, perhaps, the unconscious cynicism of a man who has lived for forty years unable to find his true mate. But since then his mind had been lit up with the flash of a sudden poignant experience. He knew now what he wanted; what he must have, or fail. He knew that there was nothing else for him. It was this or nothing. The sight of her face, her trembling, pierced his soul with an amazing joy, and it seemed as if the voice of some invisible Controller of all human actions, great and small, breathed in his ear saying: "Now! Take your chance! This is your true destiny!" There was no one in the carriage but a young girl at the further end huddled behind a novel. But had there been twenty there, it would not have altered his resolution. The Warden placed his hand on May's arm. "I am travelling with this lady as far as Reading," he said to the porter, "but I have come too late to get a ticket. Tell the guard, please." The Warden showed no sign now of haste or excitement; he had regained his usual courteous and deliberate manner, for the purpose of his life was his again. He helped her in and followed her. The door was banged behind them. There was May's little bundle of rug and umbrella on the seat. He moved it on one side so that she could sit there. The train began to slide off. May sank into her seat too dazed to think. He sat down opposite to her. They both knew that the moment of their lives had come. Then he leaned forward, not caring whether he was observed or not observed from the other end of the carriage. He leaned forward and grasping both of May's hands in his, he looked into her eyes with his own slow moving, narrow eyes that absorbed the light. The corners of her mouth were trembling, her eyelids trembling.