She had followed a bobbing white hat and gray jacket until she reached the Euston Road corner of Tottenham Court Road, and there, by the name on a bus and the cries of a conductor, she made a guess of her way. ‘And why have you not arrested him? Do not tell me you have allowed him to escape you. That’s my advice to you. The wall of the sky, the wall of the horizon, the wall behind which each human being hid—the wall behind which she herself was hiding! If only her mother had lived, her darling mother! Presently the unhappy puzzlement left her face; and an inward glow began to lighten it. Wait, though. Burn your palette and your easel. I asked him why, and he hadn’t a reason. Wood, leaping from the bed.
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