She had not been sufficiently prompted in relation to the ways of caravansaries; but her mind had been alert and receptive. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. ‘Well, I thought as how someone in the house in Paddington might see me hanging about outside like. ‘There are no Remenhams left. Dinner was served at 5:30.
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