The question haunted him.

So much so that when Emmy awoke and rubbed her eyes, and in some confusion apologized for the use to which she had put his shoulder, he was almost ashamed to look her in the face.
"What are you going to do when you get to Victoria ?" Emmy asked.
Septimus had not thought of it.

"Go back to Nunsmere, I suppose, by the next train--unless you want me ?" "No, I don't want you," said Emmy absently.

"Why should I ?" And she gazed stonily at the suburban murk of the great city until they reached Victoria.

There, a dejected four-wheeled cab with a drooping horse stood solitary on the rank--a depressing object.