’ For a moment Gerald said nothing at all. ” She nodded. He wore a French military undress of the period, with high jack-boots, and a laced hat; and, though his attire indicated no particular rank, he had completely the air of a person of distinction. Nothing could occupy her attention long today, unless it concerned her situation. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. It had her raven locks, her pouting lips. He read but little, and that chiefly healthy light fiction with chromatic titles, The Red Sword, The Black Helmet, The Purple Robe, also in order “to distract his mind.
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