’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. And pouring the contents of a small powderflask into a bumper of brandy, he tendered him the mixture. Even now he was not at all sure that she was not playing with him. ’ She tried to shake his hands off her wrists, but Gerald held them fast and tutted at her. “Who can tell?” she said. Later in the evening she heard him whistling, poor man! She felt very restless and excited. With a strong tendency to satire, but without a particle of malice or ill-nature in its display. ‘Oh, I do love a flatterer. “I always get off here and lean over that rail for a bit.
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