Presently she was going through a swaying, noisy crowd, whose faces grinned and stared pitilessly in the light of the electric standards. She shook her head, almost breaking a smile. She no longer felt sick or dizzy, her muscles returned to a relaxed, supple state. Sheppard let fall her basket. From time to time the man below would shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a harpist, only to recover them instantly. ‘Don’t let us quarrel over your Leonardo,’ he said, summoning a faint smile. Sheppard, shuddering violently.
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