“For nothing, do you call it?” he declared. “Now,” he said, “no one can blunder in upon us. ‘Talk to me another time. Her mind jumped with questions as fear raced through her and hardened into a bid for retaliation. The train, meantime, had passed Marylebone Lane, when it again paused for a moment, at Jack's request, near the door of a public-house called the City of Oxford. In a few minutes more he had made a breach in the roof wide enough to allow him to pass through. By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto. At last his voice came to release her tension. Clientèle was of the most transitory character. A girl—at my age—is grown-up.
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