‘No, no, I am convinced your very first theory was right. ” They were lingering over their dessert. Quilt was not long in following his example. Every time he left a room, she chastised herself bitterly for her own profound weakness. “I don’t see what he has to do with my coming to London?” “He—he worships the ground you tread on. Sir Rowland witnessed these proceedings like one stupified. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project.
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