She was dropped off at 2:30 at Whitefield Park, a huge extravagantly lit field in the new part of town. It did not occur to her that save for some accidents of education and character they had souls like her own. She had not been sufficiently prompted in relation to the ways of caravansaries; but her mind had been alert and receptive. It did not shock her; it amazed her, interested her beyond measure. This one was Henry Esmond, that one the melancholy Marius, and so forth and so on; never any villains. "Has he escaped?" asked the thief-taker, faintly.
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