Katy had sneered at her for a moment, their eyes locking. But … he must want to live in order that the inclination to repeat this incident may not recur. “Nor am I going to,” she answered, smiling. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. ‘That is what she wants, is it?’ ‘Do you blame her?’ he said stiffly. Here he was hotly pursued. She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. "She considers her future blasted beyond hope. He saw rifts in clouds—sunshine.
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