She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. Wood, who had recovered her good humour, quitted the room she bestowed a hearty embrace on Thames, and she told him laughingly, that she would "defer all she had to propose to him until to-morrow. ’ ‘Who were they?’ she asked abruptly. He reached the top floor and ran down the corridor to the little dressing room at the end where he had lost her before. That was how she projected it, and in general terms it seemed plausible and possible. It was at the top of the building, and looked clear over a clustering mass of inferior buildings toward Regent’s Park.
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