” “But what have I done?” “Elope! Go off in this way. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her words. Her thoughts were deflected from Vivie Warren by the peculiar behavior of a middle-aged gentleman in Piccadilly. He had set out to win her, and she had let him start. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore.
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