Gerald did not know who she was, but he knew who she was not. When they were home, the pair headed for the Big Apple or the warmth of the Beck’s family table. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. . ‘You must think me a fool, mademoiselle. Common offences may be decided upon by deputy; but outrages perpetrated by men of rank, as these appear to be, must be judged by the Master of the Mint in person. Understand me! I forbid it. She went to her own table and sat down. But pathologically, he is still on the edge.
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