It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. ’ Gerald was relieved to find the girl did not attempt to run away, but meekly allowed him to usher her into the spacious and comfortable library which was his habitual haunt when at home. Only Gwen left a letter on the pincushion. Thames did not attempt to offer him any consolation, for he was almost as much dejected. She got into rows through meddling with their shoes and tennis-rackets, and had moments of carefully concealed admiration when she was privileged to see them just before her bedtime, rather radiantly dressed in white or pink or amber and prepared to go out with her mother. Fetter Lane, on the left, Gray's Inn, on the right, added their supplies. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. But if his frame was immature, his looks were not so. She remembered abruptly that she was really living upon his money.
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