And what took you to Remenham House?’ ‘I shall come to that presently,’ said Gerald cautiously. During the wet monsoon the west beach was always littered. “Ungracious little beast, I call her. I have written, called—of what avail is anything—against that look. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud. ‘What is this fate?’ ‘Un mariage of no distinction. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. That was an admission all right. ” She shivered. “The very question, my dear sister,” she said, “tells me that I have succeeded. Marvel. But it’s as you say. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. But I may yet live to thwart them.
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