Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. “The fellow seems to know your name, Miss Pellissier, and that you have lived in Paris. He waved a cordial goodbye. The queer phase of the dream was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of something, and he followed to learn what this something was. At the bottom of the trunk I found two of my mother's dresses. He pulled rein at the sight of her, saluted, and regarded her with his rather too protuberant eyes. ‘Very inventive.
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