9. “Why should it matter?” he said. That Capes should love her seemed beyond the compass of her imagination. We may meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would make the chains of roses. This is not true at all. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word. “Kick aht at ‘em!” though, indeed, she went now with Christian meekness, resenting only the thrusting policemen’s hands. In the evening, a band of village musicians, accompanied by most of the young inhabitants of Willesden, strolled out to Dollis Hill, where they formed a rustic concert under the great elm before the door. ” “Wait,” she said. She pulled his shirt from its tucked belted state and snaked her hands around his waist.
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