There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. "Aye—to pretend to her that you don't care. I am bored to distraction. The flicker of an eyelash might betray his presence. It was a second reminder that against her claim to go free and untrammelled there was a case to be made, that after all it was true that a girl does not go alone in the world unchallenged, nor ever has gone freely alone in the world, that evil walks abroad and dangers, and petty insults more irritating than dangers, lurk. I really cared for him a little, but I am absolutely determined not to marry for some time at any rate.
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