"You have said," pursued the widow, "that she, who has once erred, is irreclaimable. Dolby was portly and handsome. “I didn’t know you were half-Gypsy either. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. She saw herself begin a slow, sinuous dance: and stop suddenly in the middle of a figure, conscious that the dance was not impromptu, her own, but native—the same dance she had quitted but a few minutes gone. It was impossible. Feigning an air of casualness, Lucy asked the obvious. “You are too good for me,” she said in a low voice. ?” she asked. But, being pushed forward by his subordinate officer, he was compelled to make a stand. A sophisticated woman would have translated the tone as a caress. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. Jests are not for seasons like this.
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