Gerald smiled and excused himself with the Poussaint girl, whose mouth pinched together as she threw a dagger glance at the voluptuous Madame Valade. ” She fumbled with her keys and opened the front door. Have you ever heard the name of Meysey Hill?” “Meysey Hill?” He repeated it after her, and she knew at once from his tone and his quick glance into her face that the name possessed some significance for him. He donned his winter coat. Gerald pressed against the wall, and signalled Roding to go to the other side of the door. The music confused and distracted her, and made her struggle against a feeling of intoxication.
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