It was only when Study Hall was over that Lucy turned her head. White’s boarding-house in Russell Square. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. Happy to do anything in my power. The young man was mollified by her sympathy, and flattered by the obvious attempts of several of the other guests to draw him into conversation. When she occupied, it, it was neatness itself; the little porch was overrun with creepers—the garden trim and exquisitely kept.
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