He moved a hand as if to touch Rosamund's, but let it fall as she spoke.
"I'm afraid I must go.

It's really raining--" Neither had an umbrella.

Big drops were beginning to splash on the pavement.

Warburton felt one upon his nose.
"To-morrow," he uttered thickly, his tongue hot and dry, his lips quivering.
"Yes, if it's fine," replied Rosamund.
"Early in the afternoon ?" "I can't.

I must go and see Bertha." They were walking at a quick step, and already getting wet.
"At this hour then," panted Will.
"Yes." Lambeth bells were lost amid a hollow boom of distant thunder.
"I must run," cried Rosamund.