Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. “Looks like old times here, I see. “You know nothing about the stage. It’s got to be at last like tobacco-ash over all my sayings and doings. “We are only in the dawn of the Age of Friendship,” he said, “when interest, I suppose, will take the place of passions. ‘What’s more,’ went on Martha, ‘I knew something Mr Charvill didn’t, or he wouldn’t so readily have left it behind him. This is a noted place for highwaymen. A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. I want you to think of me just as if I was a man, and quite outside marriage altogether.
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