She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. At least I can give you a glimmer. I think too much about myself. It takes too many years to climb even a step in the social ladder. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. I know faces. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. ’ ‘Sit down, Hilary,’ ordered Lucilla, and to Gerald’s amusement, her betrothed did so, perching on the desk close by and staring fixedly at the major.
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