She realised, with a strange
little pang of loneliness, that she had not had one evening's fun
since her arrival in London--no, not one--and she would not have
captured to-night had Aunt Anne been able to prevent it.
Then as her mind returned back to her uncle she felt with a throb of
excited anticipation that perhaps after all this evening was to
prove the turning-point of her life. Her little escape into the
streets, her posting of the letter, had been followed so immediately
by Uncle Mathew's visit, and now this invitation!
"No one can keep me if I want to go," and the old cuckoo-clock
outside seemed to tick in reply:
"Can no one keep her if she wants to go?"
She finished her preparations; as she fastened the coral necklace
round her neck the face of Martin Warlock was suddenly before her.
He had been perhaps at her elbow all day.
"I like him and I think he likes me," she said to the mirror. "I've
got one friend," and her thought still further was that even if he
didn't like her he couldn't prevent her liking him.
She went down to the drawing-room and found Uncle Mathew, alone,
waiting for her.
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