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For the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to enchanted sounds had been flung wide. He was mad. ’ ‘Yes, it’s all my fault,’ he agreed soothingly, ‘and you may rail at me presently as much as you please. I used to go by the name Lucy Iovelli, which was my natural father’s surname. Wood, by whom it was formerly occupied. Now you're up, take this spike. Well, one must hope, that was all. He became a little more personal and intimate. How does one get work? She walked along the Strand and across Trafalgar Square, and by the Haymarket to Piccadilly, and so through dignified squares and palatial alleys to Oxford Street; and her mind was divided between a speculative treatment of employment on the one hand, and breezes—zephyr breezes—of the keenest appreciation for London, on the other.
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