The jolly part of it was that for the first time in her life so far as London was concerned, she was not going anywhere in particular; for the first time in her life it seemed to her she was taking London in. She had in her suitcase a small scrapbook, only a few pages, what little information she had gathered on him through the years. And at last Ann Veronica and Miss Miniver came down the dark staircase and out into the foggy spaces of the London squares, and crossed Russell Square, Woburn Square, Gordon Square, making an oblique route to Ann Veronica’s lodging. “I saw his face in a mirror. ‘Jacques!’ She got no further, for Kimble came towards her, speaking fast and low. Sheppard, in a voice of agony. I love him!" She was weak and dizzy: from horror as much as from physical exertion.
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