“Leave them!” He yelled. “Ruin me? For what? Posterity? How could you ruin me, Lucy? What on earth are you talking about?” He got up and began to pace the room. He saw her young and graceful back as she descended from the carriage, severely ignoring him, and recalled a glimpse he had of her face, bright and serene, as his train ran out of Wimbledon. The rooks were cawing amid the boughs, and all nature appeared awaking to happiness. Put on that new dress—the one that's all white. ‘Don’t put me at the necessity of marrying the abominable little wretch. ‘I am Major Gerald Alderley of the West Kent Militia.
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