He trembled violently. ” A dull flush burned upon his cheeks. Even now he was not at all sure that she was not playing with him. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. In those revolutionary times one had to be prepared. It was as much accident as anything, but she had killed him. One mistress enough to ruin a man,—two, the devil. Gosse had come to Blaye, so he had said, feeling it his duty as the vicomte’s erstwhile secretary to deliver the fateful tidings, bringing with him one of the servant girls, Yolande, who had also escaped the fury of the mob. Then Mike came along. . ” He saw her into the train at Waterloo, and stood, a tall, grave figure, with hat upraised, as the carriage moved forward slowly and hid him. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. I was curious about that.
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