CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. Directly he saw Anna he accosted her. It’s too valiant, Miss Stanley, too valiant altogether!” Ann Veronica meditated. This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. But he seized the chance to entrap her fingers, fan and all, and look deeply into her eyes. He sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance. We're two good-looking fellows, ain't we?" "Very good-looking," replied Rachel. Anyhow, they didn’t run about so much. The poor things! Oh, it was quite dreadful. "The speedy union of Thames Darrell with Winifred Wood," replied Jack.
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