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He returned the locket without comment. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. Better even than these. "I hope you don't imagine anything has gone wrong, Sir. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. ‘That’s what started the fracas,’ Gerald admitted ruefully, nursing his injured hand as he recalled it. This one was Henry Esmond, that one the melancholy Marius, and so forth and so on; never any villains. ‘I am Major Gerald Alderley of the West Kent Militia.
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