‘He could have little comfort there, indeed. They fell in a diapason of smashes. At a turn in the road, he perceived Winifred looking anxiously towards him, and when she discovered him, she waved her hand. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. The bridge was protected on either side by a railing with bannisters placed at wide intervals. She passed down the stairs and into the street. Spurlock was no longer a man before this instinct; he was a child in trouble.
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