She wanted to kiss his feet. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. Her clock had stopped—stopped at the very hour on which she had quitted the Mint! She had not the heart to wind it up again. Wood, in a taunting tone. She went down, flushed and light-hearted, to the Widgetts’ after lunch to make some final arrangements and then, as soon as her aunt had retired to lie down for her usual digestive hour, took the risk of the servants having the enterprise to report her proceedings and carried her bag and hold-all to the garden gate, whence Teddy, in a state of ecstatic service, bore them to the railway station. Women! He is always chanting the praise of some discovery; sometimes it will be a native, often a white woman out of the stews. I wonder what men would say if we threw the mask aside—if we really told them what WE thought of them, really showed them what WE were. . FOREWORD Forever Fifteen was born of a dream I had in 2002, a dream that was part nightmare.
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