Her lover surely did not 223 understand the implications of what he had asked for and his lust blinded him to the realities of existence even now. She noted the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. "If I were your father, young gentleman," returned Jackson, enraged at the interruption, "I'd teach you not to speak till you were spoken to. There were white men with families, a fine mission-house, and a club-house for cards and billiards. I speak no harm of her. ‘Now then, my lad, you’re under arrest you are. ’ She ended on a note of sheer frustration, clenched fists beating the air. “It is very, very difficult,” she continued, looking steadfastly at the ground.
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