"Mr. “Let us put the lamp out,” she said; “the flames are ever so much better for talking,” and Ann Veronica agreed. The man pulled up. ‘Pray you, do me this one little service, and do not ask me why. The place pulsed with music too loud to converse above. He stared at her stupidly, forgetting to guard against the tactics he had come to expect from her. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. But I mustn't think of these things, or I shall grow mad.
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