But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind. ‘I knowed he were a wrong ’un, but that. I’ll feel fine as soon as I get out of my wet clothes. He was a London man of business, spending a small legacy in Paris. His hand fell lightly to her chest where her heart was 211 beating, almost tenderly. “Nobody understands them, of course, but we all look as though we did.
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