She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy. If there’s any one here whom you have not met I will make you acquainted with them after dinner. You have shown an almost feverish anxiety to eliminate from your personal appearance all that reminded me of you —when we first met. “You did good!” She closed her eyes and rested in the moment, imagining a normal life where she would go to college, have babies with John, watch her children have children, live, and die as she had always wanted to. If it was not an actual personal lover, it still might be the lover not yet incarnate, not yet perhaps suspected. She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her. About her, as she had gone day by day to and from the Tredgold College, she had seen and not seen many an incidental aspect of those sides of life about which girls are expected to know nothing, aspects that were extraordinarily relevant to her own position and outlook on the world, and yet by convention ineffably remote. The houses they flitted to and from were glutted with hangers-on, servant/mistresses, and errant prostitutes. " "Are you a real nurse?" "Yes.
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