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Leonardo he was my—’ ‘Don’t say it,’ Gerald cut in hoarsely. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. Who? Could it be Gerald? Quickly, she looked back at Gosse’s face, and found him frowning. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. CHAPTER XXI. Here were the passionate lovers! What their past had been he neither cared nor craved to know.
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