She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. Confound this slavery of sex! I am a man! I will get this under if I am killed in doing it!” She scowled into the cold blacknesses about her. On this second excursion, forewarned, she would use no light and keep as quiet as a mouse, she vowed, and thus refrain from attracting the attention of the militia at the gates. It was time to get up. His vision was becoming accustomed to the faint light now and her features were clearer. It had been discussed in silence. Everything in his favour—the luck of the gods! The only white men were miles down the coast. No more. Directly he saw Anna he accosted her.
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