Behind the Avenue was a little hill, and an iron-fenced path went over the crest of this to a stile under an elm-tree, and forked there, with one branch going back into the Avenue again. For an instant, Gerald wished the rest of the world away that he might go to her and administer appropriate comfort. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. " "Blueskin, clear the room," cried the Master; "these gentlemen would be private. Rhea became alarmed that she was about to leave. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered.
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