She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. Arrived in Paris she remembered that she had not the money for a fiacre. She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself. "Tom," continued Kneebone, calling to the shop-boy, "don't go home. You’re of age— you’re of age. She breathed deeply of the starch of his shirt. Her momentary instinct was to run to him and be comforted, like the old times. ’ He smiled down at her. "Read that. They are not bad girls, but the average tourist has that misconception of them. McClintock, coming from below, saw them and went forward. Her personal maidservant, the first she had ever had in her life, was joyful for her.
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