“Only—I have come face to face—with something terrible, and wholly unexpected trouble. The militia offered little in the way of relief. There was a stain of wine upon her dress. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. "So, wanton, I have found you!" "Wanton! Why, you infernal liar!" cried Spurlock, striking at the arm. The vestry door opened to the mews behind, and not to Golden Square. Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. “I am afraid,” he said to Anna afterwards, “that it was a mistake to order the champagne sec.
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