Ben, left alone, thought, she tells me (to my great pride) first of me.
But I was abroad and without an address. It was a matter, she felt,
that must be discussed with a third person. And it was complicated by
the girl having already given a promise.
By lunch-time she seemed no nearer any course of action, but on her way
through the shop suddenly remembered Patrick's oracle.
"What was that way of getting guidance called?" she asked him. "When
you told me not to bother about ever paying my rent?"
"Was it as definite as that?" he asked. "I'd forgotten." He laughed.
"The 'Sortes Virgilianæ,'" he went on. "Every one his own diviner. If
you're in a difficulty, try it again. Take any book at random and read
where it opens."
Ben put out her hand and found that it had alighted upon "Coleridge's
Poems."
"Now open it and glance quickly," said Patrick.