She began to read, and presently she entered another world, and remained in it for two hours. ‘Why does this person say you are mad?’ ‘Because I am risking having my head blown off,’ Gerald answered cheerfully. Something about this woman rather reminds me of our hostess. That is how I learned that there were such things as novels. Here was the corner-stone of a capital story; but he knew that Howard Spurlock would never write it. . She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being. ’ Her face fell. Somebody tricked you back yonder—baited you for spite.
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