It feels like it. “That thing’s going on,” she told herself. “Don’t you get it, Lucy? I’ve always thought he was an idiot. It seemed to her at this moment that there was nothing left for her to do. The room in which this interview took place had a sordid and miserable look. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. Solomon Smith received something very like a rebuff. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. ’ Quick anger flared, surpassing the fluttering hope. Poor young lady! She trembled too, and was unable to give her evidence. "This suspense is worse than torture. It’s no good hiding it any more.
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