up to him, kissed her all over; she gave forth a sigh of happiness, as
though her very spirit had travelled through her lips up to her lover's
heart.

A woman in a lilac frock came stealing through the trees towards Bianca,
and sitting down not far off, kept looking quickly round under her
sunshade.

Presently Bianca saw what she was looking for. A young man in black coat
and shining hat came swiftly up and touched her shoulder. Half hidden
by the foliage they sat, leaning forward, prodding gently at the ground
with stick and parasol; the stealthy murmur of their talk, so soft and
intimate that no word was audible, stole across the grass; and secretly
he touched her hand and arm. They were not of the holiday crowd, and had
evidently chosen out this vulgar afternoon for a stolen meeting.

Bianca rose and hurried on amongst the trees. She left the Park. In the
streets many couples, not so careful to conceal their intimacy, were
parading arm-in-arm. The sight of them did not sting her like the
sight of those lovers in the Park; they were not of her own order. But
presently she saw a little boy and girl asleep on the doorstep of a
mansion, with their cheeks pressed close together and their arms
round each other, and again she hurried on. In the course of that long
wandering she passed the building which "Westminister" was so anxious to
avoid. In its gateway an old couple were just about to separate, one
to the men's, the other to the women's quarters. Their toothless mouths
were close together. "Well, goodnight, Mother!" "Good-night, Father,
good-night-take care o' yourself!"

Once more Bianca hurried on.