” “No,” she cried, “I will not. But this was but a momentary gleam of personal application, and at this time she followed it up no further. She intercepted the glance the spinsters exchanged, and immediately sensed that she had said too much. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. “I will MAKE you love me! Until he has faded—faded into a memory. For the most part these were detached people: men practising the plastic arts, young writers, young men in employment, a very large proportion of girls and women—self-supporting women or girls of the student class. ” He was bereft of words for a moment, and in that moment she escaped, having passed him on deftly to one of the later arrivals.
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