She sat down by the paperrack with a general feeling of resemblance to Vivie Warren, and looked through the Morning Post and Standard and Telegraph, and afterward the half-penny sheets. She nibbled at his neck gently, sweetly, as her hand tracing his chest. She had once reconciled in her mind that she was happy as long as she had him. Then he turned on his heel and walked off. ’ A trifle discomposed at being caught examining his surroundings, Gerald was provoked into retort. The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort. Instantly she seized the poker and made a desperate effort to get them out again. Who but you would have dreamed of giving the boy such a name? Why, it's the name of a river, not a Christian.
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