" The little urchin set off, and presently returned with the sexton. She shuddered as his naked body pressed against her. “He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. For the first time that day, she was finally able to look into his face. He reminds me of a slave I once had in Rome with those sullen dark eyes and that wistful pout. Her back arched and she felt herself instinctively sinking into him. ’ ‘Pah! How can it be romantic? That is silly. ’ ‘I am not the imbecile you take me for,’ Gerald said with dangerous calm. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. They sat in the windowed booth at the restaurant across from each other. . . Lights glimmered in the windows of the different houses; and a lamp-lighter was running from post to post on his way to Snow Hill. Rot, no doubt; but we can’t alter it. " And, having partaken of a hasty breakfast, he set out.
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