"I fear we're too late," he whispered to Thames. A short flight of steps brought him to a dark passage, into which he plunged. It is for that reason that this novel begins with her there, and neither earlier nor later, for it is the history of this crisis and its consequences that this novel has to tell. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. It isn't as if he were stricken with typhoid or pneumonia or something like that. “I am glad,” she told herself, “I came. The perspiration stood out upon his forehead. Don’t be afraid to go on thinking it. ” Anna had reached the house where she lodged, but she hesitated on the doorstep. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. Wild," said the turnkey, trembling in every joint. Now I have done something for which you might be pardoned if you did kill me. ‘Knew you had the lad with you, and thought you were merely delayed. It would give me great pleasure if you would dine with me somewhere first.
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