Section 2. Immortal! You were in the beginning, and all the men in the world who have known what love is have worshipped at your feet. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. Infested by every description of vagabond and miscreant, it was, perhaps, a few degrees worse than the rookery near Saint Giles's and the desperate neighbourhood of Saffron Hill in our own time. Nature is God, Anna, and the greatest artist of us all a pigmy. Prudence shook her head. Go and prepare for our departure. How provoking!" she added, pretending to rummage her pockets; "one never can find a thing when one wants it.
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