Ilford

She was a Mrs. Oliver, and she lived at Ilford, which was at the other end of London and quite on the edge of the country.

In my ignorance and simplicity this captured me completely, so I replied at once saying I would take baby to Ilford the next day.

I set the thought of Ilford, on the edge of the country, with its green fields and its flowers.

I was hardly conscious of what happened next—hardly aware of passing through the streets to Ilford.

I found the publican from Ilford aboard—he was taking a trip to Sydney.