Also, you must send someone to fetch my horse—at least, it is not mine but I have borrowed it to come here—because it will be dark very soon and—’ ‘Woof! Hold it, hold it,’ begged the sergeant. “Yes I did. “You asked me in to tea,” he protested. I have made up my mind to insist upon moving from here into Park Lane, or one of the Squares. I was afraid of being talked about. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. Blueskin is booked. “I’ve been,” she said, “forbidden to come. Inside was Anna, leaning a little forward to watch the passers-by, bright-eyed, full to the brim of the insatiable curiosity of youth—the desire to understand and appreciate this new world in which she found herself.
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