’ ‘You’re going?’ asked his friend, and the note of relief was marked. She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance. Ye gods! what a wilderness it is! Every one trying to get the better of every one, every one regardless of every one—it’s one of those days when every one bumps against you—every one pouring coal smoke into the air and making confusion worse confounded, motor omnibuses clattering and smelling, a horse down in the Tottenham Court Road, an old woman at the corner coughing dreadfully—all the painful sights of a great city, and here you come into it to take your chances. I have a weapon—a knife—and if you attempt to open the door, will plunge it to my heart.
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