" "Are you ready?" said Trenchard, striding towards the door. I’m starving. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. "Perhaps he means well. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. She resolved to walk across the Park to the Zoological gardens, and so on by way of Primrose Hill to Hampstead Heath. “He’s quite the inventor. John Sheppard. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. She was surprised at his modesty. Then she fell into a fever of remorse for the habit of bad language she had acquired.
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