“I am sure,” she said, “that you mean to stay until you are turned out. “Would you wait for me?” Manning was silent for a space. Leonardo had not taught her to do so. Never sent for the shirt. She crawled into her small bed, dizzy with the thoughts of him, of kissing him. It’s kind of the World War II thing. Don't be afraid—I won't hurt you. She stood looking down upon him with dilated eyes. ‘This is altogether insupportable!’ She dug a hand into the recesses of the petticoat of her riding habit and a moment later Gerald found himself once again confronting the barrel of her overlarge and tarnished pistol.
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