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. Oh, and weeks and months of thought and feeling there are bottled up too. It was hard to part with romance, but she had never thirsted so keenly to go on with her University work in her life as she did that day. A door led to the inner room; and it was evident from the peals of merriment, and other noises, that, ever and anon, resounded from within, that this chamber was occupied by the Marquis and his friends. The entrance of the house 85 was grand, and upon entering she was immediately greeted by John’s mother, a tall, thin woman quite a few years older than Cathy Beck.
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