She got up, as she had been told to do, at his appearance, and he amazed her by sitting down, according to custom, on her stool. ‘She wants you. Of course she had taken the boy as her lover, acting as his muse. It made her hungry. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him. I don’t suggest any philanthropy. I tell you that I love you, Anna, and I believe that you love me. ’ The full story—or as much as Gerald knew—of Valade’s machinations shocked the old lady so much that she was obliged to recruit her strength with a refill from the Madeira decanter. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love.
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