Then go and fetch this daughter of yourn. Burn your palette and your easel. “Let me hasten,” she said, “to reassure you. “She has lost something,” he declared, “something which brought the men in crowds around the stage at the ‘Ambassador’s. She got into rows through meddling with their shoes and tennis-rackets, and had moments of carefully concealed admiration when she was privileged to see them just before her bedtime, rather radiantly dressed in white or pink or amber and prepared to go out with her mother. Alarmed by these prognostications of a storm, and feeling too much exhausted from his late severe treatment to proceed further on foot, Wood endeavoured to find a tavern where he might warm and otherwise refresh himself.
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