It was the only way to make the monthly bills. She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park. The problem had returned, made gigantic by the possibility of Ruth's love. How she had hated it!… All these mumblings which were never explained, which carried no more sense to her brain than they would have carried to Old Morgan's swearing parrot. ‘To what do you go, mademoiselle? The life of a nun in a convent, in a country where nuns are unwelcome. This double buffetting had sharpened her shrewdness and insight. One of her duties, after she had been taught to read, had been to read aloud after breakfast and before going to bed. “I am only sorry that I did not ask you to go with me. You have all the instinctive dexterity of parasites.
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