Drummond took up a cigarette and lit it. She then dried her eyes, and laying her child gently upon the floor, knelt down beside him. If they entered a shop, he paused by the doorway, as if waiting for the journey to be resumed. She had seen her really only at teas, with the Stanley strain in her uppermost. ’ Gerald laughed. Yet the fact remains that you do not understand me at all. Life is morality—life is adventure. Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it. ’ Speeding down the two flights of stairs, Gerald mentally thanked God that it was the practice of himself and Roding—in case of emergency, of which this was a prime example—to stable their horses at the posting inns all the way to London. But her mind was ruffled, and its mirror-like surface of satisfaction was not easily restored. We got your message, but you never stay out this late. She’s taken my sword. And behind— there was Paris, memories of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her. Her features are the same, yet the change has written its mark into her face.
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