What she did not know, and what she was never to know, was that the divine fire was hers. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. “It’s the spring,” he said. ” “It is my wish to be alone,” she said wearily. Wood and Thames taking their places on either side of it, and Jack at a little distance behind. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. He was just getting cross about your being late for dinner—you know his way—when it came.
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