This is where my character, Lucia, is coming from. I often wonder why the young always take us ancients for nambypamby creatures. He thought of her and himself, and no longer in that vein of incidental adventure in which he had begun. Yet before she turned once more to resume her flight she schooled herself with an effort to look where it had happened. Widgett was a journalist and art critic, addicted to a greenish-gray tweed suit and “art” brown ties; he smoked corncob pipes in the Avenue on Sunday morning, travelled third class to London by unusual trains, and openly despised golf. ’ The lady’s face came round, a puzzled frown on her brow. Sheppard, as a storm of furious voices resounded from below, and torches were seen mounting the stairs; "they are coming!—they are coming!—fly!—to the roof! to the roof.
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