She went on from street to street, and all the glory of London had departed. He accepted this confession conditionally: that no young man had kissed her. Her father was holding her waist, smiling. “Aunt!” she said, “I can’t—” Then she caught a wild appeal in her aunt’s blue eye, halted, and the door clicked upon them. To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. ‘I think that was what began his downfall. Jiggle-joggle, jiggle-joggle…! For each pause she was grateful. Dreams of adorable infants danced through her head as she cradled blankets in her arms. . The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view.
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