It was a gracious gesture, she thought, as he trudged to the Beck’s humble doorstep in his stiff blue polyester uniform. Take your pick, Mrs. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. “Odd!” he remarked, rather surprisingly, after a little interval. “My dear child,” he said, “with me you need have no apprehension. "Quite captivated, Ma'am," added Mr. By the time he had reached St. Gerald exchanged a puzzled glance with his friend. She feared he might take her tears as a sign of weakness.
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