He arrived at 6:29 sharp on the night of the Junior Prom. ‘He just came. There are times when you make me feel a little thing at your feet—a young, silly, protected thing. Not far from the entrance, on the left, was a sort of screen, or partition-wall, reaching from the floor to the ceiling, formed of thick oaken planks riveted together by iron bolts, and studded with broad-headed nails. But we were both pledged to secrecy, and I couldn’t reveal my part for fear that I would lose my place. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly.
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