Doomsday by Warwick Deeping

Three days later Furze had his letter. It came to him without an address, and with a London postmark on the envelope. It was the first time that he had seen her handwriting.

He took the letter into Mrs. Damaris' parlour, and sat in the window-seat and read it. The fine weather had gone, and the rain was coming down upon a green world, and upon the rank growth of sheep's parsley and pink campion and grasses under the hedges. A south-west wind ruffled the trees, and blew a heavy scattering of drops from them.