"But are you really there?" "No, I'm here," answered Jack, leaping down. Fresh ground, no chicory, and all the rest of it. She dared not say the word aloud, not even to herself. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. Lucy had caught it when it was a millimeter away from hitting her teeth. The advanced guard rode on to drive away any opposition, while the main body of the procession crossed the bridge, and slowly toiled up Holborn Hill. A fortnight passed, then a month.
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