He walked with bent head. ‘I thought, you see, that we might as well enter by the same way our intruder had done. If I did not love you so much I believe I could win you by sheer force of character, for people tell me I am naturally of the dominating type. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house. Ruth obeyed, not willingly, but because there was something hypnotic in the authoritative tone. They travelled past the few idle sightseers who had braved the uninviting evening to see what the Suffragettes might be doing; they pulled up unchallenged within thirty yards of those coveted portals.
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