Startled by the cry, as may be supposed, the attention of the whole congregation was drawn towards the quarter whence it proceeded. Another door was next opened, and, preceded by the ordinary, with the sacred volume in his hand, the prisoner entered the room. And now she was discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her mirages and her horizons. She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park. Not alone with her, that’s sure.
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