She had but to choose. They had not proceeded far when a low moan was heard. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. He came to her at once, and turning, walked by her side. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. The bliss had lasted one hundred and forty years, far more than an entire mortal lifetime. At this place of refuge, situated in the heart of Wapping, near the river-side, he arrived in less than an hour, in a complete state of exhaustion. ‘Well, I can see you won’t let it alone, so what do you propose to do about the wench?’ ‘I’ll die before I let it alone,’ Gerald vowed.
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