“You love some one else?” he repeated. Gerald noted the lady’s eyes brighten as she caught sight of him making his way through the throng towards her. She was radiant. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. No: I must face it out. It was she who had come out from the flat only a few minutes before. It would put the whole adventure on a broader and better footing; it seemed, indeed, almost the only possible way in which she might emerge from her rebellion with anything like success. He was a fool. Before retracing his steps, however, he allowed his gaze to range over the vast and beautiful prospect spread out beneath him, which is now hidden, from the traveller's view by the high walls of the General Cemetery, and can, consequently, only be commanded from the interior of that attractive place of burial,—and which, before it was intersected by canals and railroads, and portioned out into hippodromes, was exquisite indeed. Some one was standing beside him. There's my thumb upon it.
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