As she spoke
Thomas, the cat, came forward and began rubbing himself very gently,
as though he were whispering something to his mistress, against her
dress. Maggie had an impulse, so strong that it almost defeated her,
to burst out with the whole truth. She almost said: "I'm going out
to meet Martin Warlock, whom I love and with whom I'm going to
live." She hated deceit, she hated lies. But this was some one
else's secret as well as her own, and telling the truth now would
only lead to much pain and distress, and then more lies and more
deceit.
So she said:
"I'm going to Piccadilly to get some things for Aunt Elizabeth."
"Yes," said Aunt Elizabeth, "she saves me a great deal of trouble.
She's a good girl."
"I know she's a good girl," said Aunt Anne softly.
It was strange to remember the time not so long ago when to run out
of the house and post a letter had seemed a bold defiant thing to do
threatened with grave penalties. The aunts had changed their plans
about her and had given her no reasons for doing so. No reasons were
ever given in that house for anything that was done. The more Maggie
went out, the more she was drawn in.
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