” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. Capes became rigid and adhesive. On a high chair behind a raised counter the stipendiary’s substitute regarded her malevolently over his glasses. ” “I had to,” she repeated. Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, you’ve jammed it now. I will endeavour. She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park.
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