’ She gestured at his hand, on which Roding’s makeshift bandage had been replaced by a more efficient one. “I believe she’s dressing up-stairs—now. He was here shortly after the young man was taken ill. She ought to have leapt back on guard. She studied the face and tried to visualize the body, clothed in the dress which had created the spinsters' astonishment. That suggested delicacy; and yet her young body was strong and vital. “I have the right of the man who loves you,” he declared. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. His statement was treated with derision.
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