Page 35 (1/2)

Thomas was not in love with Kitty (Indeed, this isn't a love story at

all) Stewards, three days out, are not in the habit of falling in

love with their charges (Maundering and Drool notwithstanding) He was

afraid of her; she vaguely alarmed him; that was all

For seven years he had dwelt in his "third floor back"; had breakfasted

and dined with two old rapher who shouteda

brickbat whenever the occasion arrived There was a barmaid or two at

the pub where he lunched at noon; but chaff was the alpha and oa of

this acquaintance Thus, Tho of the sex

The woallant, the hero, the

lover (we none of us fancy ourselves as rogues!) were those who peopled

his waking dreams She was La Belle Isoude, Elaine, Beatrice,

Constance; it all depended upon what book he had previously been

reading It is epicture of

some one of our dreams of them that women cease to dwell in the

abstract and become issues, to besome of his idle dreams there had been a Kitty, blue-eyed,

black-haired, slender and elfish

Kitty sat down in her chair "Well," she said, "I have found him"

"Found whom?" asked Mrs Crawford

"The private secretary"