It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. ” Then he went on to say: “Well, you’ve had your little adventure, and I hope now you’ve had enough of it. Its smooth surface soothed her nerves. “Rubbish!” he answered. “Tut, tut!” he said. ‘I feared as much. ‘Lord,’ he uttered, glancing about with a disparaging eye. It doesn’t matter. I am dreadfully sad. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song.
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