John. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. He was not used to not getting his way. It was a dead calm. “Let us walk round to Covent Garden,” he suggested. Pitt endeavoured to dissuade him from attending in person, representing the great risk he would incur from the mob, which was certain to be assembled. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall.
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