Wood became sensible that he was not alone. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately. Fifty pupils. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word. \"Where have you been, young lady?\" Mike crooned, a large grin on his fat Irish face. Lucy could see Diane’s clear dislike of her, the foster background she had come from, and the single mysterious episode with the police that had inflamed the gossips from all the corners of town.
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