Yet there was nothing for her to do. And then she came out into the street, sure only of one thing—that she could not return directly to her lodgings. “Okay. Her thought spoke aloud. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. ‘But you,’ she said in the friendliest way imaginable, ‘are a person tout à fait sympathique, I think. ’ She turned and swept away from him, pacing the length of the room to the window Gerald had unshuttered. I want you. He was never known to err, and was as much dreaded as the jailfever in consequence.
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