" "I should like to satisfy myself on that score," rejoined Wild, drily. Only the next of kin. Put out your hand and bid me God-speed. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees. Gerald hoped he had covered all options and had resisted the temptation to pay mademoiselle a visit. “I’ve been,” she said, “forbidden to come. Perhaps Ferringhall has pensioned her off. ” This made her even angrier, so she stopped speaking to him for a week.
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