Only last Sunday desire had seemed simple--just his freedom and Annette.

'I'll go and dine there,' he thought.

To see her might bring back his singleness of intention, calm his exasperation, clear his mind.
The restaurant was fairly full--a good many foreigners and folk whom, from their appearance, he took to be literary or artistic.

Scraps of conversation came his way through the clatter of plates and glasses.
He distinctly heard the Boers sympathised with, the British Government blamed.

'Don't think much of their clientele,' he thought.