“Who’s your violin teacher?” He asked. ‘How dull it must have been for you, poor little one. Somehow to-night—I don’t know. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace. "Of course," rejoined the bystander, who had just spoken, and who was of a cynical turn,—"the greater the rascal, the better they like him. “So you still think of me as husband, even though we have long since tired of each other. ” He unfolded his serviette with fingers which shook all the time.
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