She liked the look of them glittering there; they conveyed a sense of the embarrassment of riches which touched her ideas of romance.

It was the tray of old-fashioned ornaments, brooches in the design of flimsy baskets of flowers, each flower represented by a different coloured stone--old signet rings, old seals, quaint little figures of men and beasts in silver, sometimes in gold; these were the things that caught her fancy; she pored over them, choosing, every time she passed, some fresh trinket that she would like to possess.
But on this evening in November she did not stop.

At the print-seller's in Garrick Street, she hesitated, but one glance over her shoulder sped her onwards.

The apprehension most prominent in her mind was that if she continually looked behind her, the man might fancy she was encouraging him.

Once having consciously decided that, she turned no more until she had reached the protection of the fountain in the middle of the Circus.