Real justice was not of this world: she had had too often to come back to that; yet, strangely, happiness was, and her traps had to be set for it in a manner to keep them unperceived by Mr.Buckton and the counter-clerk.

The most she could hope for apart from the question, which constantly flickered up and died down, of the divine chance of his consciously liking her, would be that, without analysing it, he should arrive at a vague sense that Cocker's was--well, attractive; easier, smoother, sociably brighter, slightly more picturesque, in short more propitious in general to his little affairs, than any other establishment just thereabouts.

She was quite aware that they couldn't be, in so huddled a hole, particularly quick; but she found her account in the slowness--she certainly could bear it if _he_ could.
The great pang was that just thereabouts post-offices were so awfully thick.

She was always seeing him in imagination in other places and with other girls.

But she would defy any other girl to follow him as she followed.