CHAPTER IV

"IF WE'RE NOT TO BE MARRIED TELL ME"


The rattle of the wheels over the loose, roughly laid cobble stones, and
the swaying carriage hung on leathers, forbade talking. Lavinia heard
her companion's voice but she did not know what he was saying. Not that
it mattered for she was in too much of a flutter to heed anything but
her own emotions, and these were so confused that they told her little.

Then Dorrimore's arm stole round her waist. Well, this was not
unnatural. Would they not be soon man and wife? The puzzle was that she
had no feeling of response. She would rather that he did not embrace
her. She did not want to be noticed. Yet she could not find it in her
heart to be unkind, so she allowed him to draw her nearer, to let her
head droop on his shoulder. She tried to think it was pleasant to be so
loved and she lowered her eyelashes when he kissed her again and again.

Two or three minutes of oblivion. The coach had raced down Red Lion
Street. It was in Holborn going eastwards and here the din and clatter
were heightened by the shouts of drunken roisterers. The overhanging
houses cast deep shadows and the coach was travelling in the gloom. It
was past midnight and the lamps hung at every tenth house were
extinguished. This was the rule.

Then Lavinia became conscious that the carriage was going down hill. It