It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. Carefully abstaining from thrusting against each other, Ann Veronica and her father began an absurdly desperate struggle, the one to open the door, the other to keep it fastened. They took her fingerprints sitting at the gray metal desk of Officer Nolte, the virile young buck who had brought her in. They were so good to me. But give me till to-morrow—only till to-morrow—I may be able to part with him then. No doubt that was due to his helplessness.
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