CHAPTER XXXI. “You will write to me, I am sure—and from the date of your letter I trust most earnestly that I may come back to my old place as “Your devoted friend, “WALTER BRENDON. Gerald did not know who she was, but he knew who she was not. . Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though. A minute pressure inwards showed him that it was not locked. Always as black and bitter as gall. ’ ‘Lucky indeed,’ answered Gerald, glancing at the pair again. ‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. ” She demanded. But she could not live in constant association with him without having these gaps filled. The young man had knocked over the siphon.
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