Perhaps I ought not to; but this isn't a case to fiddle-faddle over. She had asked to borrow his pencil out of dire necessity. She wore a black satin dress, a little shiny at the seams, a purposeless bow of white tulle at the back of her neck, and a huge chatelaine. He smothered it down with such a good will that the reaction set his heart to pounding. The picture in her mind altered and she saw again the way Gerald had looked with consternation upon the bruises he had inflicted on her wrist. He yelled to her, asking her if she wished to have a drink with him, which she refused. ‘Woof!’ uttered Trodger, gazing at the lady in some awe.
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