‘Jacques! This—this bête he attacks me, and you stand there and you do nothing. Farewell. ‘But you know everything now,’ protested Hilary, keeping pace as Gerald took the stairs two at a time. The commissionaire stood there, tall and imperturbable. ‘I may have been only a secretary, but times are changing. The immense disillusionment that awaited him! The devastating disillusionment! She had a vague desire to run after him, to state her case to him, to wring some understanding from him of what life was to her. “Then what did you do?” Lucy’s eyes leveled with her. Anything. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road.
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