But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. His food lay untouched about his plate. But if you do not leave this room I must. Nothing. It’s got to be at last like tobacco-ash over all my sayings and doings. ’” “What did he say?” “What does any one say to an invitation to dinner point-blank? One tries to collect one’s wits.
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