” Anna moved softly to the window, and threw up the sash. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators. Her aunt did not object to capital punishment or war, or the industrial system or casual wards, or flogging of criminals or the Congo Free State, because none of these things really got hold of her imagination; but she did object, she did not like, she could not bear to think of people not having and enjoying their meals. ‘Oh my God,’ uttered Gerald in some dismay.
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