’ She grasped the girl’s arm. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. She had to make sure, for the peace of her mind, that this was really the man. That is what I must do. “Your name and address in his pocket was no delusion,” he said sharply. Things got hot and heavy in the car the next night, and he peeled off her skirt and top to reveal her underwear. He looked just like John Wayne in a cowboy movie, his eyes narrow and squinting, except his hair was long, unruly, and jet black. "Thames!—Thames!" cried Winifred, rushing to the window. I had to stay in school no matter how sick I was.
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