He closed the door. The girl suppressed a chuckle that would have been inexplicable. She was fiercely and bitterly jealous. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. . Which were perfectly true, as Gerald was aware. ” “You do not deny that you are my wife,” he asked hoarsely. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension. “I didn’t know Mr.
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