"I don't think so. A school has its drawbacks. If I were back in the
Army, I couldn't be staying tonight."
Without thinking—
"You like to be your own master?" said the girl, and could have bitten her tongue in sunder.
Anthony winced. Then—
"Yes," he said slowly, "I do."
Valerie thought frantically. Then—
"That's the best of being a man," she said. "Take our two cases. You have your own establishment—at least, I suppose you have—-your own chambers, your own servant. I live with an aunt. If I broke away and set up a separate menage, I should be talked about. To be her own mistress and excite no remark, a girl must be in penury."
Anthony's heart seemed to have stopped beating. The murder was out.
From my lady's words it was plain that she did not know his calling.
She had not recognized him, then, that night with his livery on. Fool!
He might have known that she would not—could not hobnob with a lackey.
Instead of combating her statement, he made some knock-kneed reply….
For setting wheels within wheels, you cannot match Fortune. After all, she has made trochilics her hobby through all the ages. Look at her handiwork here. Jill knows Jack for a flunkey and seeks to dissemble her knowledge, for fear of bruising his heart. As for Jack, when Jill stumbles upon his secret, he curses his luck: now that he believes it inviolate, he is in despair.