The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. ‘What do you want with me? Why did you catch me?’ ‘You intrigue me,’ he told her frankly. Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full. The sergeant had not seen it for he understood nothing of what she told him. ’ There was a kind of aching hunger in Gerald’s gaze. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster.
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