She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. I owed his father a grudge: that I settled long ago. During her school days, especially her earlier school days, the world had been very explicit with her, telling her what to do, what not to do, giving her lessons to learn and games to play and interests of the most suitable and various kinds. And as a natural consequence, they don’t do so well, and they don’t get on—and so the world doesn’t pay them. The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue. Thinking of Mantua, she wandered to the courtyard.
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