’ ‘Oh, is he?’ Gerald said grimly. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. She recoiled. "We'll see that," replied Jonathan. She flew up the covered stairs and knocked upon his door. Her eyes still had the fevered glow of sickness, yet she seemed in perfect health. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. It was a face that matched her body, so pure and beautiful that any man would have killed for her. "I mean to have no one but yourself in it.
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