"By God, I intend to!"
"I thought you looked different, Wenny, when you got off the train," Nan said.
"It was fearfully decent of you two to meet me... Makes me feel as if I had somebody, no matter what happened."
"I've often thought," Fanshaw said, "That there was something that cut us three off together, like people in a carnival in Venice who might drift in their wonderfully carved state gondola down a dark canal ..."
"And find themselves in the Charles ... Exactly!" cried Wenny laughing.
They had left the wharves and were walking through the grey many-angled buildings of the business section. It was the lunch hour, and the streets were full of clerks and stenographers hustling from their offices to their lunch; from out of the tiled caves of lunchrooms came a smell of bacon and old coffee grounds.
"What sort of work are you going to do? I suppose you'll try a newspaper; everybody does."
"Let's not talk about that now, Fanshaw. Where on earth are you taking us?"
"To Thompson's Spa."
"Why not the Parker House, where we can have something to drink?"