She had had two days of employment-seeking now. Anna stood on the step and looked up and down the street for a hansom. She glanced at him and made a dismissive gesture. To her horror she realized that she had nearly forgotten how to kiss after a years-long dry spell, and she could detect drool on her own chin and John’s cheek. Things happen out this way. She was inclined to think that perhaps for a girl the converse of his method was the case; an older man, a man beyond the range of anything “nonsensical,” was, perhaps, the most interesting sort of friend one could meet. Gerald, I mean, not Madame Valade. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention.
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