At Great Turnstile she lingered and her eyes wandered down the narrow
passage. Great Turnstile led to Lincoln's Inn Fields, and in Portugal
Row on the south side of the "Fields" was the Duke's Theatre.
Association of ideas was too strong to be resisted. Thinking of the
theatre, how could she help also thinking of Gay's encouragement as to
herself--of Lancelot Vane and his tragedy?
Another thought was lurking at the back of her mind. She had gone to
sleep dwelling upon her promise to meet Vane at Rosamond's Pond. Did she
mean to keep that promise? She could not decide. She had given her
consent under a sort of compulsion. Was it therefore binding? At any
rate if she went to Hampstead the meeting was impossible.
It was this last reflection which made her linger. Reasons for altering
her plans chased each other through her brain. The poor fellow would be
so disappointed if he did not see her. How long would he wait? How
wretched his garret would appear when he returned disconsolate! His
despondency might drive him to break _his_ promise to her. Where was the
harm in keeping her appointment instead of going to Hampstead? No harm
at all save that she would be behaving ungratefully to Hannah. But
Hannah would understand. Hannah was never without a sweetheart of a
sort.
A sweetheart? That was the important point for Lavinia. Was Lancelot her
sweetheart? She wondered.
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