Things hung for a moment in an awkward silence. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. He groaned, much to Melusine’s relief. Finally Lucy replied. She didn’t like the shops, she didn’t like the other women’s faces; she thought the smirking men in frock-coats who dominated these establishments the most intolerable persons she had ever had to face. She remained stonily in the middle of the hallway until the spinsters' door shut them from view … for ever. His revelry, however, was put an end at the expiration of the time mentioned by Jonathan, by the entrance of a posse of constables with Quilt Arnold and Abraham Mendez at their head. While you talked I was only making our plans. His smile faded.
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