It is foolish of me, Fanny agreed, and not complimentary to our love. I have kept you so long over nothing that you will be late for dinner. I don’t care! Her manner bore a foreign trace of abandon in its radiant happiness; and, with spread fingers on his back, she propelled him toward the stairs. But, in their room, he failed to change his clothes: he sat lost in a concentration of thought, of summoned determination.