“Is this hansom for me?” she said. By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto. She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town. “What makes you ask such a question, Vee?” she said. She felt she was now near her boy, and, nothing doubting her ability to rescue him from his perilous situation, she breathed a fervent prayer for his deliverance; and bending her steps towards the tavern in question, revolved within her mind as she walked along the best means of accomplishing her purpose. Reluctantly she found him beguiling after he had eaten. She was perhaps three-and-twenty, and very pink and healthy-looking, showing a great deal of white and rounded neck above her business-like but altogether feminine blouse, and a good deal of plump, gesticulating forearm out of her short sleeve. ’ She threw a melting look at Roding.
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