Gerald was conscious of that sliver of irritation again at mention of the name. “It is part of the irony of life,” he said. They are things faint and slight in themselves, as physical facts, but they are like the detonator of a bomb: they let loose the explosive. But you must promise me not to go near that abandoned hussy at Willesden. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. By the time he had reached the summit of this hill, he had lost all trace of them; and the ardour of the chase having in some measure subsided, he began to reproach himself for his folly, in having wandered—as he conceived—so far out of his course. ‘Come, come, ma’am,’ he said smiling. But there was only Gosse, still struggling with the picture, looking dazedly towards Melusine and the lad he had shot, then away towards the sounds of pursuit, and back again. ‘I am far from imagining anything of the kind. " "Bless you for it.
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