Drummond took up a cigarette and lit it. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. ‘What are you going to do now, Gerald?’ He sipped his wine and shrugged. Don't suppose," she added, with a scornful glance at her helpmate, "that I would pay him the compliment of thinking he could possibly be the father of such a boy as you. I seed he was one,—and a sharp un, too,—at a glance. Essentially the talk was a mixture of fragments of sentences heard, of passages read, or arguments indicated rather than stated, and all of it was served in a sauce of strange enthusiasm, thin yet intense. Lucy stood in front of the piano. He tries hard to conceal it, but he cannot. ” “But don’t you see how I must stand to you? Don’t you see how it bars us from being lovers—You can’t—at first. Springing to his feet in an ecstasy of terror, he stumbled, and had well nigh realized his worst apprehensions.
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