There can be no further discussion of the matter.

Pray accept the fact that our interview is closed." But Theresa, now sensible that her chance was in act of being finally ravished away from her, fell--or rose--perhaps more truly the latter--into an extraordinary sincerity and primitiveness of emotion.
She cast aside nothing less than her whole personal legend, cast aside every tradition and influence hitherto so strictly governing her conduct and her thought.

Unluckily the physical envelope could not so readily be got rid of.

Matter retained its original mould, and that one neither seductive nor poetic.
She went down upon her fat little knees, held her fat little hands aloft as in an impassioned spontaneity of worship.
"Sir Charles," she prayed, while tears running down her full cheeks splashed upon her protuberant bosom--"Sir Charles"-- He looked at the funny, tubby, jaunty, would-be smart, kneeling figure.
"Oh! you inconceivably foolish woman," he said and turned away.
Did more than that--walked out into the hall and to his own rooms, opening off the corridor.

In the offices a bell tinkled.