. “It is not that. It got on my nerves—the women I saw. But whatever she may have said was lost as Gerald pinned her to the wall, the point of the sword at her throat. “Splendid you are looking to-day, Miss Stanley,” he said. The parlour was cluttered but cosy. Something about the girl had suggested an idea. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. You aren’t afraid of thunder, are you?” He asked. A medley of motives warred in her, and it was certainly not one of the least of these that she knew herself to be passionately in love with Capes; at moments she had a giddy intimation that he was beginning to feel keenly interested in her. She produced from the depths of her pride the ugly investigatory note of the modern district visitor.
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