“Yes,” said Ann Veronica, trying to think where they were, trying to get things plain again that had seemed plain enough in the quiet of the night. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. “I think,” she said, “that I rather like what you have said. I don’t see what you can have to say. Here and there, patches of flesh adhered to the bones, and the dank dripping hair hanging about what had once been the face, gave it a ghastly appearance. His gaze dropped to the black garment that covered her. "Egad!" exclaimed Wood, "you've hit the right nail on the head, anyhow. ‘Yes, I thought you’d say that. The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort. Why don’t you wait and see if you do truly love me, then I can believe you? Then I know I am worth waiting for.
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