And this great mellow place, this London, now was hers, to struggle with, to go where she pleased in, to overcome and live in. Good-bye, Anna!” Annabel sprang up. "Thank you," she said, and left the office. At the thought of the major, her tears redoubled and she was obliged to rip off a piece from the remnants of her already maltreated underpetticoats with which to blow her nose and soak the damp from her cheeks. "You two … both of you! But for you I couldn't have done it. And you will. Couldn’t face me with what he’d done, the miserable blackguard. The tears were streaming down her face, her voice was thick with sobs. Probably a sick man's whim. We’ve deserted the posts in which we found ourselves, cut our duties, exposed ourselves to risks that may destroy any sort of social usefulness in us. At least here she was safe.
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