“You see,” she thought it out, “you've got to TELL in London. You can't just sneak back there. You've got to strike a note of your own. With all these things of yours.”
“But how?”
“There's a sort of little house, I used to see them when I was a girl and my father lived in London, about Brook Street and that part. Not too far north.... You see going back to London for us is just another adventure. We've got to capture London. We've got to scale it. We've got advantages of all sorts. But at present we're outside. We've got to march in.”
Her clear hazel eyes contemplated conflicts and triumphs.
She was roused by Benham's voice.
“What the deuce are you thinking of, Amanda?”
She turned her level eyes to his. “London,” she said. “For you.”
“I don't want London,” he said.
“I thought you did. You ought to. I do.”
“But to take a house! Make an invasion of London!”