The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. ‘She knows what she’s up against. The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. ‘I had no need of the place, and there was no money, of course. She hugged Lucy, who had finished eating. “I told you I did not love you. You know how those Russian students do? In Russia. In the corner of the room were two hockey-sticks and a tennis-racket, and upon the walls Ann Veronica, by means of autotypes, had indicated her proclivities in art.
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