‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. "I'll take you into a Chinese home. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. I saw the blood come as he rolled over. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. She snatched about in her mind. "Now—begin.
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