” She wondered how much history she could reinvent before losing track of her own lies. “Good-bye, Miss Pellissier, and success to you,” he said. ” “But you thought you could forget him. She hated being angry, the uselessness of it all, the frustration. For a moment she remained silent. Kneebone smiled assent. She felt like Snow White in a secret forest house populated by dwarves. Of what was she thinking? She must rescue herself. She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction. 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. She will cry for days and nights together. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. All that confidence, born of irony, disappeared; and fear laid hold of him. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. Gerald grinned.
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