" Ben judged correctly. “No,” she said at last; “I’m a human being—not a timid female. “All right so far,” she said to herself. That’s— that’s my private life. He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. The coach was slowing down, and he realised that they had arrived in Golden Square.
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