"My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. ‘Her own,’ Gerald replied. He said the place had gone to wrack. ” He saw her into the train at Waterloo, and stood, a tall, grave figure, with hat upraised, as the carriage moved forward slowly and hid him. But, uttering a loud cry, he was swept away by the headlong torrent. “Miss Pellissier, isn’t it?” he said. “But a boy—a boy goes out into the world and presently stands on his own feet. “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. It wasn’t clear to me that I had to explain.
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