But some day she would
find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would
be flurries of snow blowing into her face. All houses of means had not only a maid but
usually a whole staff of servants. Perhaps," she added, in a whisper, as she appropriated the beforenamed article, "he has a pocket-book. No matter what the fire
and force of his passion, it falters eventually, and forever after smoulders or goes
out. Gerald, meanwhile, was off hunting up these lawyers, together with
your son, ma’am—’ turning to Mrs Sindlesham ‘—and you know the outcome of
that. "
CHAPTER VI. I should as soon think of
trusting a woman.
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