I am afraid because I love you, so that the mere thought of failure hurts. Set on unravelling her secrets, Gerald pursues every possible clue—much to the indignation of Mademoiselle. “You frighten me!” He smiled at her indulgently. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. She began at once a hasty readjustment of her hair, while Ramage parleyed with inaudible interrogations. Rot, no doubt; but we can’t alter it. Through one doorway she saw a grave Chinaman standing on a stage-like platform. She stared at him.
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