247?XIIDick transcribes as XIII

(Certainly Nancy had gone with them, since Minta Doyle hadasked it, in words which with her dumb look, ?paying whichsounded so strangely in Nancy's heart; so she had dropped her mallet &gone, feeling [?] ten years older, the companion of grown up people.& so had trudged along the road, up onto the ?Cliff; & Minta hadkept on snat taking her hand. Then she would let it go. Then she wouldtake it again.But what did she want, Nancy wondered; & feltthe whole world spread out beneath her; as, from a mistmist, some strange city, say Constantinople, rises beneath one,Nancy& one asks, is that Santa Sophia? -so she asked, is thatlet it go, sowhen Minta took her hand & quickened her vision sothat her life seemed to lie before her - What does she want? -ed& here & there, emergingfrom the mist of her own future awas it that?wh & what wasthat?tower a pinnacle, a dome;was it somethingominousthe pinnacle,the dome&shewhichin the mistwhen they ran downsome disquiet emotionthe hill side, disappeared again, &only a disquiet remaineda roughness with

She was a fine walker, unimpeded by skirts. She worestrideMinta would wadeinto the middle of a stream; but while herrashness endeared her to Andrew, he could see that ithe cd.seewould not always do.She would kill herself one of these days.But the way she dressed was awfully sensible -Andif one wanted an image for her, what could be betterthan the little yellow gorse flower, with its smooth & warm -silky with its nutlike smell? She was silky, somehow & warm&audacious;nutty; &had no sort of fear.Had she not -ofEither for bulls, except forbulls. She ran at the sight of one,but as for mindingowning up to it, she did not in the leastOr to tears; orto enthusiasm; or to the desire which wouldcome upon her,as now on the cliff, to sing.It was ashe sangwailing unhappysong when they were all four danglingsitting on the cliff, watching the ships out at sea.

Paul Rayley had lit his pipe. She wanted them alla comic loud?some song,
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