What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone. Then she would have quiet times, in which she would say to herself, “Now look here! Let me think it all out!” For the first time, it seemed to her, she faced the facts of a woman’s position in the world—the meagre realities of such freedom as it permitted her, the almost unavoidable obligation to some individual man under which she must labor for even a foothold in the world. A mosquito had been trapped inside and was perfectly preserved for thousands of years. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas. ‘What are the chances, do you think, of that thing being already cocked?’ ‘Probably not even loaded,’ suggested Hilary hopefully. Marriage!—and no woman by to tell the child what it was! The shocks and disillusions she would have to meet unsuspectingly—and bitterly. His only warning was a gleam of silver in the faint spill of light from the house above. Lucy auditioned on a borrowed violin. A curious silence ensued. "We'll see that," replied Jonathan.
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