The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much. “Eight, Cavendish Square. Hollo rumbled in his throat. ’ ‘That is what you think? Let us try!’ ‘Don’t be idiotic!’ She was backing from him, reaching through one of the slits she had carefully manufactured in her petticoat. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. He shrugged and, to Gerald’s relief, made to leave at last. ” “We might even have—given it up for them!” “I wonder if we could. ’ He sighed.
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