She could feel his breath on her skin, every hair on her arms and neck raised in response. She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane. “Serves you right if I’d cracked your skull. So I had to buy out his interest, and it pinched me dreadfully to do it. Sometimes I think you would have been much better off if you had been born in death-worshipping Egypt instead of in the Fourteenth Century. ‘Jacques, do not go!’ Jack gazed steadfastly at the floor. The sound of their strident voices floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing. Yon must be mine to-night.
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