‘Doesn’t she, Gerald?’ Gerald held up his hands. The leg and wing of a duck were disposed of by this gentleman in a twinkling; a brace of pigeons and a pound of steak followed with equal celerity; and he had just begun to make a fierce assault upon the eggs and ham. But Spurlock was ever on guard, even when she fussed over his hair. He was indeed still in the throes of his bewilderment. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. “One has to live and learn,” she remarked, with a passable imitation of her father’s manner. dear.
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