The two lovers sat together, and their sole discourse turned upon Jack and his ill-fated mother. Something that is born anew each time we meet, and pines when we are separated. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. It is absolutely a frightful neighbourhood, this. There are some papers I have to look through to-night—important papers. In the adjacent apartment Ann Veronica found a middle-aged woman with a tired face under the tired hat she wore, sitting at a desk opening letters while a dusky, untidy girl of eight-or nine-and-twenty hammered industriously at a typewriter. Gerald doubted there would be many eager suitors, even assuming the comtesse was keen to marry off her daughter to a foreign protestant. IX.
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