’ Obediently, Gerald rose and walked to the other end of the parlour. Sheppard, whose maternal fears drew her in another direction, hurried off to the Mint. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. “Miss Pellissier,” he said, “I don’t understand this change in you. Manning told her he loved beauty, and extorted a similar admission from her; he then expatiated upon his own love of beauty. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky.
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