And the woollen-draper departed. The class laughed, a few putting their hands to their foreheads in a military salute to mock her. “Let us walk round to Covent Garden,” he suggested. The houses they flitted to and from were glutted with hangers-on, servant/mistresses, and errant prostitutes. The world into which she was so boldly venturing was going to be wonderful, but never so wonderful as the world within these paper covers. The area in front of the jail was completely filled. ’ At that, a flush drenched her cheeks and she snatched her hand away. “Who do you think cares for your children as you dally with my husband, Clotilde?” Lucy asked. “I must take them,” she said, to help herself over her own incredulity. ‘Where was I? Oh yes. Of course I knew all about him years ago, and he is exactly like everybody’s description of him.
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