Long before religion and Society heard of Doubt, girls were all for midnight coaches and Gretna Green. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. I’m not a bit afraid of anything—scandal, difficulty, struggle. ‘Again?’ Another simple parry. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. Always at your service.
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