” She shook her head. May I do so to-day?” “It’s your gate,” she said, amiably; “you got it first. He knocked on the doorframe. Later, she would sew it on. She occupied a small sofa, a little apart, a ruddy-complexioned gentleman some years her senior beside her, and glanced about with an air of considerable unease. “Why did you ever let me love you? Why did you ever let me peep through the gates of Paradise? Oh! my God! I don’t begin to feel and realize this yet. " Her attitude now entirely sisterly, he ceased to be afraid of her; there was never anything in her eyes (so far as he could see) but friendly interest in all he said or did. There was enough contra-light to render her ethereal. ‘You’re the most troublesome wretch I’ve ever encountered,’ he told her bitterly. Gerald did not know who she was, but he knew who she was not. As a sex you’re a little under-trained—in affairs. I know something about men.
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