She nibbled at his neck gently, sweetly, as her hand tracing his chest. He must fight the thought continually, day in and day out. It is you who took my name, not I yours. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. ‘Pray do not trouble yourself, Saling. Besides, Gerald would not for the world have passed up the chance of a little excitement. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her.
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