I’m glad 237 you came over. Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone. ‘At least I couldn’t say for sure. The wretch you confide in has sworn to hang you. This is something above all rules. The smell of gunpowder was strong in the room. So long as he lived, Spurlock knew that in fancy he would be reconstructing that scene between himself and Ruth's father. He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. As Gosse pushed her around it, she felt his hold about her of necessity loosen slightly. You’re tired, of course.
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