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” She drove off in a little fiacre, nodding and smiling at Sir John, who remained upon the Avenue. Tell me why you ran away from the convent. ” She breathed relief. “Does he ever ask about me?” She asked, feeling like a cuckolded old maid. “You wouldn’t. She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her. He stood up, apparently intending to put an arm about her, but she stepped back from him quickly. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. There was a Greyhound bus that she was overdue to ride. It was a moment before he recognised that the effect had been similar on all those present, including General Lord Charvill. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. I would sooner see you in a ’bus again. .
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