He walked along by the sea, and as the church clock struck the three-quarters turned into the alley and looked eagerly round for the old steward.
The labours of the day were over, and the inhabitants were for the most part out of doors taking the air.

Shirt-sleeved householders, leaning against their door-posts smoking, exchanged ideas across the narrow space paved with cobble-stones which separated their small and ancient houses, while the matrons, more gregariously inclined, bunched in little groups and discussed subjects which in higher circles would have inundated the land with libel actions.

Up and down the alley a tiny boy all ready for bed, with the exception of his nightgown, mechanically avoided friendly palms as he sought anxiously for his mother.
[Illustration: "Fullalove Alley."] The object of Mr.Hardy's search sat at the door of his front room, which opened on to the alley, smoking an evening pipe, and noting with an interested eye the doings of his neighbours.

He was just preparing to draw himself up in his chair as the intruder passed, when to his utter astonishment that gentleman stopped in front of him, and taking possession of his hand shook it fervently.
"How do you do ?" he said, smiling.
Mr.Wilks eyed him stupidly and, releasing his hand, coyly placed it in his trouser-pocket and breathed hard.
"I meant to come before," said Hardy, "but I've been so busy.

How are you ?" Mr.Wilks, still dazed, muttered that he was very well.