, and
The Poultry, E.G."
In that night, or very early in the morning, Glyde disappeared without
word or sign left behind him.
BOOK IV
SANCHIA IN LONDON
I
London in mid-May, slogging at its pleasures under the pale sun, might
read one morning of an affray in Yorkshire, of a magistrate assaulted, or
undergardener in arms, and forget it in half-an-hour; but to Sanchia,
unaccustomed to cower, some such chance paragraph seemed one spot the more
upon her vesture, which contact with the Fulham Road had smirched already.
She had never taken cover before--and how could one be in such a place but
to hide in it? With contracted brows and bosom oppressed, she watched the
drifting millions go by, and her heart sank. Was she become as one of
these? Is not to be ashamed to be shameful? And had she not been put to
shame? If she was to hold up the head and feel the mouth of the winged
steed that she rode, she must stable him elsewhere.
She wished to forget Wanless. Let it be as if it was not, and had never
been. But she found that Glyde and his outrageous act made that not
possible. They brought her down to London's level--her in her white robe
out of stainless air; here she was still, as Glyde had made her there,
just a woman for men to quarrel over, or a bone for dogs.
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