and Mrs. Behind the Avenue was a little hill, and an iron-fenced path went over the crest of this to a stile under an elm-tree, and forked there, with one branch going back into the Avenue again. From other obscure hints dropped by the speakers, Mrs. Alors, how did you get in?’ ‘Oh, we broke in,’ Gerald told her cheerfully. She’s already spoken for. ’ To Gerald’s relief, the entrance of the butler interrupted them, relieving him of the necessity to explain himself. He was content to talk about himself, though in the back of his clever mind he already suspected that she was not offering any details about her life. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. Half French. Slowly a mirthless and very unpleasant smile dawned upon his face. She would lure him, as he was an easily tempted child predator who could even more easily be turned into prey. Austin, or any man of similar dimensions, would have found wholly impossible. "Yes, your son, Madam.
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