“You must arrest me!” she gasped, breathlessly, insisting insanely on a point already carried; “you shall!” The police-station at the end seemed to Ann Veronica like a refuge from unnamable disgraces. “We will follow you in another cab. ‘But my poor Jacques is wounded and—’ ‘All taken care of,’ interrupted Hilary. "As like as life. You must tell me what it all means. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. ‘I had no need of the place, and there was no money, of course.
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