” Sir John’s reply was incoherent. “The truth!” It was a moment of awkwardness between the two sisters —a moment, too, charged with its own psychological interest, for there were secrets between them which for many months had made their intercourse a constrained and difficult thing. Gerald at once rid himself of his own glass and leapt to her assistance. Could she hold him and manage the reins? If only Gerald had not gone. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. Through all he said ran one quality that pleased her—the quality of a man who feels that things can be done, that one need not wait for the world to push one before one moved. “She can’t. ‘—and I love your raven hair, and your bright blue eyes, and your very kissable lips—’ suiting the action to the words ‘—and I love the crazy way you speak English, and the way you curse at me. It comforts him when he is most forlorn. An early bird clarinetist burst through in a long black skirt, swishing like a bell. “He fancied that he did,” she corrected him coolly. Why do you not go away?’ ‘Yes, do go away,’ begged Gerald. "A thousand pounds," he observed, gloomily, "is a heavy price to pay for doubtful secrecy, when certain silence might be so cheaply procured.
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