“If I was the world I think I should have put down a crimson carpet, and asked you to say what you wanted, and generally walk over me. Coldly she spoke, in a distinctly accented voice. He kissed her again. She dived at once behind the cover of the lamproom and affected serious trouble with her shoe-lace until he was out of the station, and then she followed slowly and with extreme discretion until the bifurcation of the Avenue from the field way insured her escape. She was as lovely in the spirit as in the flesh. But we were both pledged to secrecy, and I couldn’t reveal my part for fear that I would lose my place. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. He wouldn’t like it if people did it to him. She had animated dark blue-gray eyes under her fine eyebrows, and dark brown hair that rolled back simply and effectively from her broad low forehead.
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