His looks were fixed on his old benefactor. "Stand aside, Tom," commanded Kneebone. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. When she occupied, it, it was neatness itself; the little porch was overrun with creepers—the garden trim and exquisitely kept. “Then you—you will?” A long pause. ” She looked down on him thoughtfully, and he let his admiration of her free young poise show in his face. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine.
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