She approached this field with her usual liveliness of apprehension. I do not say guest because that suggests friendship; and I am no friend of this Wastrel. He had his sections of the Siegfried map folded in his pocket, and he squatted up with his legs crossed like an Indian idol while she lay prone beside him and followed every movement of his indicatory finger. I felt—I felt living in a masked world. “I missed the hour of your release,” he said, “but I was at the Vindicator Restaurant. I don’t care if you never tell me any of your secrets. Anyhow, he did not sentimentalize her. She was her mother’s child, fair of face, doted upon and spoiled by her attentions. She wanted to return his gaze but focused intently on a spot next to and above the brick fireplace, as her music teachers had always taught her to do instead of looking directly at the audience. Remarking that they struck off at a turning on the left, he took the same road, and soon found himself on Paddington-Green.
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