ecathedralcityofTercanbury.Thecoastguardstationwaspassed,alongbuilding,trimandlow.FinallytheyrattledacrossthebridgeovertheHighStreetandtheporterswiththeirKentishdrawl,calledout,“Blackstable,Blackstable.”
Bertha’semotionswerealwaysuncontrolled,andsopowerfulassometimestounfitherforaction:nowshehadhardlystrengthtoopenthecarriagedoor.
“Atlast!”shecried,withagaspofrelief.
Shehadneveradoredherhusbandsopassionatelyasthen,andherlovewasaphysicalsensationthatturnedherfaint.Thearrivalofthemomentsoanxiouslyawaitedleftherhalf-frightenedshewasofthosewhoeagerlylookforanopportunityandthencanscarcelyseizeit.
Bertha’sheartwassofullthatshewasafraidofburstingintotearswhensheatlastsheshouldseeEdwardwalkingtowardshershehadpicturedthescenesooften,herhusbandadvancingwithhisswingingstride,wavinghisstick,thedogsinfront,rushingtowardsherandbarkingfuriously.Thetwoporterswaddledwiththeirseaman’swalktothevantogetouttheluggagepeopleweresteppingfromthecarriages.Nexttoherapasty-facedclerkdescended,inadingyblack,withababyinhisarmsandhewasfollowedbyahaggardwifewithanotherbabyandinnumerableparcels.Alabourersauntereddowntheplatform,threeorfoursailors,andacoupleofinfantry-men.Theyallsurgedforthewicket,atwhichstoodtheticket-collector.Theportersgotouttheboxes,andthetrainsteamedoffanirasciblecitymanwasswearingvolublybecausehisluggagehadgonetoMargate.(It’safreecountry,thankHeaven!)Thestation-master,inadecoratedhatandaself-satisfiedair,strolleduptoseewhatwasthematter.Berthalookedalongtheplatformwildly.Edwardwasnotthere.
Thestation-masterpassed,andnoddedpatronisingly.
“HaveyouseenMr.Craddock?”sheasked.
“No,Ican’tsayIhave.ButIthinkthere’sacarriagebelowforyou.”
Berthabegantotremble.Aporteraskedwhetherheshouldtakeherboxesshenodded,unabletospeak.Shewentdownandfoundthebroughamatthestationdoorthecoachmantouchedhi