She went down, feeling rather than seeing the way. But now confound it! how can you prevent it? I will kiss you. I've come to take you back home. Michelle was in sight, Lucy could hear her voice, high in the crowd, and saw her blond head bobbing among a sea of faces. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. See paragraph 1. You have only to look resolute and proceed upon your way.
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