It was a great relief to arrive at last at that pause when she could say to her aunt, “Now, dear?” and rise and hold back the curtain through the archway. “It might be a policeman borrowing the driveway and looking out for speeders. “Gellett,” he called, “just come and clear up a mess, will you? I’ve smashed some things. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. Creeping along quickly on his hands and knees, he found the entrance to a covered drain, into which he crept.
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