’ ‘Lord,’ Gerald murmured, awed more by the outspokenness of his hostess than by what she had said. ” “And the second?” “Make love to a single woman. ” The dinner was admirable as a dinner; nothing went wrong, from the golden and excellent clear soup to the delightful iced marrons and cream; and Miss Stanley’s praises died away to an appreciative acquiescence. He was in trouble and she could not help him; that was the ache in her heart. She entered and approached the bunk. He felt like a boy again, the taste for adventures was keen upon his palate, the whole undiscovered world of rhythmical things, of love and poetry and passion seemed again to him a real and actual place, and he himself an adventurer upon the threshold. “Don’t you care for Mr. “I’ve tried to make words tell it. ” “The truth,” she murmured, with her eyes fixed upon him. .
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