A dissipated, loose-living man. I’m not a lovesick boy. As he balanced the photograph, a humorous twinkle came into his eyes. That had shut him up for a while. Wood, Sir," he added, with much emotion, "is one of the best of men, and would be the happiest, were it not that—" and he hesitated. "One last embrace. ‘Well, I can see you won’t let it alone, so what do you propose to do about the wench?’ ‘I’ll die before I let it alone,’ Gerald vowed. His hand traveled below her loose neckline, and he cupped her round breast in his hand.
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