A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping. She knew that to expect more now was like anticipating a gold-mine in the garden. . The house was invisible from the road, and yet enormous once within view. . ” “And mine,” murmured his companion, with the smile still lingering upon his lips. He seemed to be hesitating between two courses of action. ’ ‘Damnation!’ Gerald burst out, crossing towards her. He did not know what her game was, although he had a shrewd suspicion that she had been co-opted into it by her supposed husband, the soi-disant Valade. She thought of leaving the Beck house less and less these days, though the suitcase remained packed underneath her creaky bed. He has often told me that if he could play sober, he would go to America and reap a fortune. To have sprung this upon them to-night would have been worth a thousand pounds. It would be swindling. And not a worthy tome in sight.
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