The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. See? You marry me. Too close, he reasoned, for safety. ’ He held his hands out of the way, surrendering his chest for her assault. There were lines in her face that age had not put there. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. Very gently indeed, Alderley grasped the handle of the door and stealthily turned it. ” “I don’t care how we meet,” she said.
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