“Hotel Ritz,” he said mechanically to the coachman. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. Running his hand hastily over it, he was startled to find it one complicated mass of bolts and bars. She recalled how she had stretched out her arms toward the magic blue horizon. But in between these wider phases of comparative confidence were gaps of disconcerting doubt, when the universe was presented as making sinister and threatening faces at her, defying her to defy, preparing a humiliating and shameful overthrow. I should think, Anna, that your own sense—er—of propriety would enable you to see this. A sacrifice. A brief calm succeeded. The fellow is little better than a lunatic. "Curse me, if I don't think all the world means to cross the Thames this fine night," observed Ben. "The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment. Or I should have made love to you long ago.
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