"Ask her to support us when we're young and—Bunny, what an awful idea. Please——"
"Rot! Sometimes I think, Millie, you've lived in a wood all your days. Everyone does it these times. We're all pirates. She's got more than she knows what to do with—we haven't any, She likes you better than any one. You've been working for her like a slave."
Millie moved away a little.
"You can put that out of your head, Bunny—once and for all. I shall never ask Victoria for a penny."
"If you don't, I will."
"If you do, I'll never speak to you again."
"Very well, then, don't." Before she could answer he had turned and was walking rapidly away, his head up, his shoulders set.
Instantly misery swooped down upon her like an evil, monstrous bird that covered the sky, blotting out the sun with its black wings. Misery and incomprehension! So swiftly had the world changed that when the familiar figures—the men and the women so casual and uncaring—came back to her vision they had no reality to her, but were like fragments of coloured glass shaking in and out of a kaleidoscope pattern. She was soon sitting beside Victoria again.
She said: "Why, dear, where is Mr. Baxter?"