Comstock wanted to ask how old she was but he couldn't. He felt that it might reveal the motives that were driving him out of the security of Bowdler's house into the harsh reality of his world which he had grown to hate and fear.
Waving his hand in farewell to Bowdler, Helen and Grundy, he tried to look like one of the heroes he had been reading about. With that image in mind, he threw back his shoulders, took a deep breath, and slammed the door behind him. Then, head held high, he walked straight off the verandah and missed the top step completely.
Floundering, he landed in a heap at the bottom of the four steps.
It wasn't particularly heroic he feared, rising and brushing himself off.
Gulping, he walked out of sight of the enchanted house as quickly as he could. Ahead lay a world of danger, of familiar things that now were menacing, and terrible.
But beckoning him on his way was a picture of a lovely red-haired, green-eyed girl who would fall languishing into his arms when he rescued her from the hands of the enemy.
Thinking about just what ways she would reveal her gratitude carried him along on seven league boots. As a matter of fact before he quite knew how he had covered the distance between the house and Puritan Square, he was there.
The streets were crowded with people but of a lovely red-haired siren there was no sign, no sign at all.
