No harm could come to him whilst his Friend was in the house--and his
Friend was always there.
He went always with his mother into the streets when she did her
shopping or simply took the air. It was natural that on these occasions,
he should be more frightened than during his hours in the house. In the
first place his Friend did not accompany him on these out-of-door
excursions, and his mother was not nearly so strong a protector as his
Friend.
Then he was disturbed by the people who pressed and pushed about
him--he had a sense that they were all like birds with flapping wings
and strange cries, rushing down upon him--the colours and confusion of
the shops bewildered him. There was too much here for him properly to
understand; he had enough to do with the piano, the mirror, the shadowed
passages, the staring windows.
But in the Square he was happy again. Mrs. Slater never ventured into
the gardens; they were for her superiors, and she complacently accepted
a world in which things were so ordered as the only world possible. But
there was plenty of life outside the gardens.
There were, on the different days of the week, the various musicians,
and Henry was friendly with them all.
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