He stood back and held her shoulders. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. And the way he and the other men looked at her! The desire was plain on their faces, so many noblemen reduced to their simplest elements! They looked at her sideways, they looked at her backside, scanning her blue eyes and even looking right into her face. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key.
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