She had intended to be quietly dignified, but he was in a smouldering rage from the beginning, and began by assuming, which alone was more than flesh and blood could stand, that the insurrection was over and that she was coming home submissively. It would have been better had he succeeded in murdering her, she thought. He hoped he would get to see the two suitors face off over Lucy. 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. Here he was hotly pursued. “I knew,” she said, in a low despairing tone, “that people would talk. . Wood. She found a little difficulty in beginning. "I am glad you think that," she replied. . ‘Too late by the time I realised to what a dunderhead I’d pledged my friendship. “Forgive me,” he said.
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