Gerald was conscious of that sliver of irritation again at mention of the name. “Nothing. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. I guess they were bad all the time. “Very well,” he said. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. It was intolerable to think that he might overhear words and phrases. He would discuss something she had been reading, and he would give her some unexpected angle, setting a fictional character before her with astonishing clearness.
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