I have a different game to play; and it'll be your own fault, if you don't come off the winner. CHAPTER XXIII. There was no such a thing as perfection in a mixed world. She handled it half fearfully, and set it carefully down again. It was horrible, but she must do it. Very fascinating, though, trying to analyse the impulse. . Capes?” she heard her aunt saying. She fought a compulsive urge to yank his shirt free. ’ Gerald moved to the long sofa, dusted it with elaborate care with one of its cushions, and with a gesture invited her to sit down. She was fatigued physically and mentally, and neither mind nor body could rest.
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