Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. The sky was cloudless, effulgent blue. It was a bright and beautiful day: so bright, so beautiful, that even her sad heart was cheered by it. But she made no answer. The one nearest to her, which must lead to the library. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy. And experience was slow in coming. They’re just all men, and no one is safe from scandal. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. His glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance. In a few minutes, an appalling change was perceptible. Advancing towards him, he made him a formal salutation, which was coldly returned. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone.
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