“It’s precious unromantic. "I don't know what I think," Wood answered sulkily; and he bent his eyes upon the water, as if he wished to avert his attention forcibly from the scene. It is for that reason that this novel begins with her there, and neither earlier nor later, for it is the history of this crisis and its consequences that this novel has to tell. ‘Beg your pardon, ma’am, but she’s enough to try the patience of a saint. “I won’t go home,” she said; “I won’t!” and she evaded the clutch of the fatherly policeman and tried to thrust herself past him in the direction of that big portal. It had showed up at an auction at Sotheby’s after someone had sold it. He winced from the wasp-like sting. ‘Lord,’ he uttered, glancing about with a disparaging eye.
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