’ ‘It’s no use blaming me, Gerald,’ uttered Roding, shrugging helplessly as his senior turned questioning eyes on him. 167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. ” “And leave you here alone?” he asked, in a hoarse whisper. Wood trembled. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. I am no use for a clerk, because I do not understand shorthand. —Providence, I mean—HAS arranged it so that men will keep you, more or less.
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