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His hair had begun to gray, his belly had just begun to round. ” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply. ‘Now then, Gerald, out with it. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. It is the bottom of the cup, where all the dregs appear to settle. She thought me— filthy. ” “I don’t think it makes a rap of difference, except for one thing. “Showtime!” Martin cried. For was not Gerald a gentleman? An Englishman, whose services any female—excluding her own self so idiote— would be very happy to have. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. ‘I thank you.

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