Gerald looked at it, then at her face. Manning? I suppose there’s a sort of place like a ticket-office. I am not of the canaille, but a bourgeois. ’ As a matter of fact, I am not. Lightheaded, she threw up in the courtyard of the Palazzo as servants crowded her in alarm. I’m ashamed to confess it, but I didn’t want the charge of you—a too close reminder of my own lost babe. It was plain that a man of his age could only be interested for one reason alone, yet she felt compelled to at know him a little before the main event. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object.
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