'Is it too late ?' For reply Monica moved slowly on.

They turned up one of the ways parallel with Rutland Street, and so came into the quiet district that skirts Regent's Park, Widdowson talking all the way in a strain of all but avowed tenderness, his head bent towards her and his voice so much subdued that occasionally she lost a few words.
'I can't live without seeing you,' he said at length.

'If you refuse to meet me, I have no choice but to come wandering about the places where you are.

Don't, pray don't think I spy upon you.

Indeed, it is only just to see your face or your form as you walk along.