Then she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more upright. “Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. ’ ‘Gérard,’ she said, giving the French version with a soft “g” and not quite managing the “l”. It is just the aim I have had in view all the time. The man had favoured him with a brief nod, but the girl had gone so far as to offer a tiny smile, and a look under her lashes with which not even Gerald, for all his scant interest in female society, could fail to be familiar.
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