She was to see Capes to-morrow, but now, in this state of misery she had achieved, she felt assured he would turn his back upon her, take no notice of her at all. I am too weak to aid you. Oh, what’s his name? It’s on the tip of my tongue. ’ ‘But it was not your fault,’ protested Gosse, shocked. “It is a secret mission,” she declared. “I don’t think I CAN do that,” she said. Ye gods! what a wilderness it is! Every one trying to get the better of every one, every one regardless of every one—it’s one of those days when every one bumps against you—every one pouring coal smoke into the air and making confusion worse confounded, motor omnibuses clattering and smelling, a horse down in the Tottenham Court Road, an old woman at the corner coughing dreadfully—all the painful sights of a great city, and here you come into it to take your chances. “I think we are growing sensible,” he said. He took her hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched the maltreated skin. Shy, grateful in her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened.
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