Thames did not try to cheer her. “But perhaps I want to confess them. ” She said. The galleries adjoining it were crowded with spectators,—so was the roof of a large tavern, then the only house standing at the end of the Edgeware Road,—so were the trees,—the walls of Hyde Park,—a neighbouring barn, a shed,—in short, every available position. On some insane score she fancied she had to state her case in verse. It took her only two towns away, near the Arby’s where Mike worked. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. She went out into the hall, where she met the Jedsons in their kimonos.
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