" "I liked that, too," she replied; "but it wasn't that I had in mind. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. I’ve had it, Sheila. His face was a little flushed perhaps, and his small, brown eyes were bright. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project.
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