’ ‘How do you do?’ Gerald said pleasantly, stepping from the pillared portico and coming down the shallow stairway. Was she interested in that young ass who was risking his bones over there in the city? They had come up on the same boat. She ran her gaze over him, and allowed her eyelashes to flutter down. Women, she had been taught, who exposed the flesh of their bodies under the eyes of man were in a special catagory of the damned. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. He's had a hard knock somewhere; and until he is strong enough to walk, we must keep his interest away from that thought. She colored faintly. “Why would she do that? Why does she care? That’s a waste of her time. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed.
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