She wove these deceits with strong disgust. She hated the
lies, and there were many, many times when she was on the edge of
confessing everything to the aunts. But the thought of what would
follow that confession held her back. She could not make things
harder for Martin.
Nevertheless she wondered why when she felt, in herself, no shame al
all at the things that she was doing, she should have to lie to
cover those things up. But everything in connection with the Chapel
seemed to lie.--The place was wrapped in intrigue and double-
dealing. How long would it be before she and Martin were out of it
all?
She was to meet him by one of the lions in Trafalgar Square. She
bought a golden chrysanthemum which she stuck into the belt of her
black dress and she wore her coral necklace. She was tired of black.
She sometimes thought she would spend all her Three Hundred Pounds
on clothes . . . To-day, as soon as she was out of the house and had
turned the corner into King William Street, she slipped on her ring.
She kissed it before she put her glove on. He was waiting there
looking like a happy schoolboy, that way that she loved him to look.
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