She had a compartment to herself in the train from London to Morningside Park, and she sat with both her feet on the seat in an attitude that would certainly have distressed her mother to see, and horrified her grandmother beyond measure; she sat with her knees up to her chin and her hands clasped before them, and she was so lost in thought that she discovered with a start, from a lettered lamp, that she was at Morningside Park, and thought she was moving out of the station, whereas she was only moving in. ‘I will not, if you will assure me that an imbecile is a better marriage prospect than a starving pig. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. I never even burrowed down into the trunk. ” “The man?” 228 “Yes. “I am bored,” she said abruptly.
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