Sheila found out. “My friends,” she said, “my dear friends, I am going to make the same answer to all of you—and that is perhaps you will say no answer at all. ’ ‘And me,’ came the guttural response, ‘I will certainly murder you the very next time I am compelled to see your face. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. I suspect he has a bit of vanity. In a moment they were in the street outside. I’m not that sort I quite agree. I, too, want to understand—to walk with my head in the light.
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