“I am dying to renew my acquaintance with London, Mrs. Here you are, young, sound, with a heart that will recover in no time, provided you keep liquor out of it. So soft. ” “Well”—her breath failed her for a moment. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. At any rate she must see me. He sat up in his chair as though the question had stung him. But she made a pretence of struggling a little, for it would be out of character for her not to do so and she did not want to arouse his suspicions. ‘But, Gérard—’ ‘Don’t start arguing,’ he said in a tone that brooked no defiance.
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