He hadn’t seen her when she noticed him with his back to the road. Such a straight back, she thought, though the tails of his coat were threadbare and his feet less well-shod. His hair was wilder too, uncombed, and his arms stuck out too far from his shirt sleeves. Ah how he’d suffered since she moved on.
Slipping between the carriages—so very foreword of her—she almost tumbled into him.
“Beg pardon,” said he turning around to her. She saw it wasn’t him after all, but she fell in love just the same. They were married next fall.