I saw the metal box a hundred times, but I never thought of opening it until the day I fled. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. 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. It was a port of call, since fortnightly a British mail-boat dropped her mudhook in the bay. You’ll have to find someone else. It belonged to his father, and was worn by him on the night he was murdered. Prom a knot of idlers at a public-house, he learnt that Jonathan Wild had just ridden past, and that his setters were scouring the country in every direction. You get one, you get them all. But, whether she likes it or not, I aim to be on hand to get her out of it. Lucy looked about confusedly.
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