She would stroll about until almost train time.

She had over an hour's wait.

If she encountered any of the students she knew on the street they would attach no importance to seeing her.
It was five minutes to four when she purchased her ticket to New York.
To her relief she had seen no one she knew.

When the train pulled into the station she was the first person to board it.

She took a seat on the side of the car farthest from the platform, so she did not see a slim hurrying girl's figure rush madly down the platform, just as the train was about to start, and swing herself up the car steps on the last second, heedless of the warning expostulation of the porter.
Torn with remorse for the past, fearful of the future, which, to her overwrought imagination, crouched like a huge black monster ready to spring upon her and engulf her in its cruel jaws, Evelyn watched the swiftly passing landscape with unseeing eyes.