Playing to Win Read Online Free PDF Page B

for a
milliner's assistant, and no one would notice me at all.
    But she must not think about her
missing luggage. The specter of finding herself alone in a strange
city without so much as a toothbrush reared its ugly head, and she
pushed it firmly out of her mind. She was frightened enough at
present; she would go mad if she thought about that now. Besides
(she reminded herself) she had her reticule, with the guineas tied
up in her handkerchief. The reticule was hanging off her wrist. In
what she hoped was an excess of caution, she tucked it into her
muff as well.
    While she was busied with this task, a
shout of, "Hi! Watch where you're goin', can't yer?" caused her to
jump back, startled. An ostler was fighting to control a very fresh
team he had obviously been obliged to halt when she walked directly
into its path. Clarissa's eyes widened in fear. Dear God, the sign
swinging over her head read, "Grisham's"—with her head down, she
had walked directly back to the entrance of the hotel she was
trying to escape!
    She stammered an incoherent apology,
turned blindly, and almost ran across the street. She heard curses
and the sound of more horses being pulled up short behind her, but
this time she did not look to see whose progress she had
impeded.
    There were so many people! Horses, and
carriages, and costermongers, and persons of all descriptions
hurrying along the street—how did they avoid colliding with one
another? Overwhelmed, Clarissa darted round the nearest corner,
flattened herself against a building, and tried to get her
bearings. She was painfully aware that finding her bearings had
never been her strong suit. Clarissa’s ability to lose her way,
even in surroundings familiar to her since childhood, had been a
source of much merriment to her schoolfriends.
    At least she now knew Grisham's was
behind her. Somewhere. I have only to go forward, she told herself
firmly. I cannot possibly return to Grisham's if I walk straight
ahead.
    She was annoyed to find that she was
shaking. She walked forward, clutching her muff and staring at the
pavement before her feet. The shifting, bustling confusion of
traffic and noise all round her was bewildering. When an extremely
dirty child with a large tray suddenly shouted, "Chest-NUTS! Hot
CHEST-nuts!" right beside her, she nearly jumped out of her
skin.
    Clarissa reluctantly discarded the idea
of hiding her face with her hat brim. It is dangerous to walk with
my head lowered, she thought. I must pay attention to my
surroundings. I will be safe, if only I do not look anyone in the
face. I will pretend that I know exactly where I am going, and walk
with an air of confidence and ease. I will walk energetically, so
as not to appear approachable. And if anyone addresses me, I shall
simply pretend I do not hear.
    She was forced to put this to the test
before she had reached the first crossing. And for the next twenty
minutes, she continued to ignore the various persons who hailed
her.
    Clarissa, who had lived almost all her
life in a quiet rural setting, was completely unprepared for the
outrageous and baffling behavior of Londoners. Did these strange
men honestly believe she would stop and converse with them? Did
they expect her to smile at their unsolicited compliments? It was
startling, and extremely unpleasant, to hear the jocular greetings
and odd invitations that followed her up the street. She dared not
look, but was miserably certain that all the remarks were addressed
to her. Some of the comments she did not understand, and did not
want to understand.
    Fear gradually quickened her step. She
had thought only of the peril awaiting her at Grisham's. She had
not considered that peril might follow her wherever she went. An
unescorted female was apparently considered fair game. Any man who
cared to insult her could do so with impunity.
    Her frightened, whirling thoughts
coalesced into a refrain that beat time with her stride: What shall
I do? Where can I go? Her mind seemed numb with