She turned to Martha as the lad exited by the back door, but her nurse forestalled anything she might have said. And now she was discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her mirages and her horizons. After these dinners they would have a walk, usually to the Thames Embankment to see the two sweeps of river on either side of Waterloo Bridge; and then they would part at Westminster Bridge, perhaps, and he would go on to Waterloo. On the cords being removed, he made a desperate spring at Wild, bore him to the ground, clutched at his throat, and would, infallibly, have strangled him, if the keepers had not all thrown themselves upon him, and by main force torn him off. A deadly sickness came over her, the room seemed spinning round. ‘But we—mon mari and myself—we have the bonne chance.
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