It felt wonderful and golden to bask in the sunlight of their approval, even if their approval was fickle and dangerous. She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. "Now's your time," cried Blueskin, struggling desperately with his assailants and inflicting severe cuts with his knife. "No"—as if her thoughts were elsewhere. Men had tried to kiss her— unshaven derelicts, some of them terrible—but she had always managed to escape. 256 Lucy chose her words carefully. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. And after that Alice became remoter than ever, and, after a time, ill. "Then it is not too late to save him.
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