” She hesitated. She had come across the wicked South Seas which were still infested with cannibals; she had seen drunkenness and called men beachcombers; who was this moment as innocent as a babe, and in the next uttered some bitter wisdom it had taken a thousand years of philosophy to evolve. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. Then he put the paper by. “A woman wants a proper alliance with a man, a man who is better stuff than herself.
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