Gerald grinned. She heard it open, but as she felt unable to look round in a careless manner she pretended not to hear it. ‘Assuredly it is locked up. “Steady on!” he cried. After all, she was a consummate actress. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. It might be upset. “No, I must have had hope lurking somewhere too. Well, I'd no idea," she continued, pursuing her ruminations as she left the room, "that people of quality laughed so. Giles's church, the bell of which continued tolling all the time, passed the pound, and entered Oxford Road, or, as it was then not unfrequently termed, Tyburn Road.
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