ToC Mrs. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. She went to the table under the end window at which she had been accustomed to work, and found it swept and garnished with full bottles of re-agents. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement. The destroying angel hurried by, shrouded in his gloomiest apparel. Come along, you mad jade. Perhaps, as you say, I do not really care—but I cannot do it. I had consecrated my life to His Work; and I took the primrose path. From this spot a road, more resembling the drive through a park than a public thoroughfare, led him gradually to the brow of Dollis Hill.
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