Before Wood had time to inquire into the cause of this sound, his attention was diverted by a man, who rushed past the entry with the swiftness of desperation. Traci was the most grateful, because he stopped his sexual advances. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir. “Who wouldn’t be for you?” The train began to move. Of the vast mass of these impressions Ann Veronica could make nothing at the time; there they were—Fact! She stored them away in a mind naturally retentive, as a squirrel stores away nuts, for further digestion. “YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly.
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