It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. Part 7 Then one day a little thing happened that clothed itself in significance. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "a letter, beginning 'dearest Aliva,'—that's your mother's name, Thames. She went about, intentlooking and self-possessed, trim and fine, concealing her emotions whatever they were, as the realities of her position opened out before her. ’ ‘You were quite as bad to me as I was to you,’ Gerald protested mildly, sitting down beside her.
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