And now her mind was so full of the thought that she was in love—in love!—that marvellous state! that I really believe she had some dim idea of talking to him about it. . I’m glad I did. ‘You can’t go to England. He had saluted her with elaborate civility, his eyes distended with indecipherable meanings. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. “Your name and address in his pocket was no delusion,” he said sharply. She described it so vividly. ‘You are too shrewd for me, ma’am. “Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered. Sheppard did not dare to return any answer; but, disengaging herself from his embrace, endeavoured meekly to comply with his request. Before she passed out she turned and faced Sir John.
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