She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. And the fences are down for good. Her hair was the one part of her that did not exude the air of wealth. She remained for some seconds crouching at the fender, poker in hand. And, if it had not been for a taste for plotting, which was continually getting him into scrapes, he might have been accounted a respectable member of society. “I believe you are quite right so far as regards the present, at any rate,” someone remarked, from the depths of an easy chair. Could she go through with it? She must. ” “Very well,” he said. The business of serving gave Gerald a few moment’s grace, for he was dubious about the effect on an elderly female, not in the best of health, of raking up old memories.
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