If you've noticed an error in this article please click here to report it so we can fix it.
She boarded a No. 25 at Victoria. Her costume was blue, blue-grey were her stockings, her neat suede shoes and hat—and, bluest of all, her eyes. The conductor looked at her with approval. " Oxford Circus. How much'? " she asked. "Threepence, please, miss," and, whipping out the familiar magenta ticket, he was about to punch it when a cry of horror stopped him. "No! no! Not that! I'll have a blue one ! ' " But," he protested, "that only takes you to the top of Bond Street.' "Never" Never mind," she said. "I'd rather walk miles than take one of those awful pink things. It would clash with my frock."