“No reason. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. He reached for her and she stroked his head soothingly as his mother had done a few times when he had suffered bad fevers. He was beautiful and perfect, his blue eyes smiling at her. Did you warn Frith?’ ‘Yes. . ‘You do not like it?’ ‘That is hardly the point. The arm about her was steel hard, and she felt the weapon that was placed at her heart, which thumped uncomfortably in her chest. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. Anyhow, there was some pleasurable satisfaction in knowing where the quarry would be for the next three weeks. Nobody who cared.
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