She receded into the entryway, opening her palm and gesturing as if there were an imaginary red carpet rolled out for visitors. There was first the Avenue, which ran in a consciously elegant curve from the railway station into an undeveloped wilderness of agriculture, with big, yellow brick villas on either side, and then there was the pavement, the little clump of shops about the postoffice, and under the railway arch was a congestion of workmen’s dwellings. All his dreams shattered in an instant. “What are you two whispering about?” She turned towards Martin. She opened her suitcase—new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book, dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook. She rose and attacked Lucy, kicking her with the grafted leg that was too big for her body. She was at the end of girlhood and on the eve of a woman’s crowning experience. Though scarcely two hours past midnight, it was perfectly light. In the present instance she did not want any interference; she did not want the doctor's wisdom to edge in between these two young fools and spoil the drama. While she worked, Melusine worried over the problem of getting Jack home.
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