What’s that?” They both stood listening. “Did he tell you, Annabel?” “Yes. This time they would call it murder. ’ ‘Yes, but I’m afraid I am far too interested to stop mixing myself in your affairs,’ Gerald said ruefully. As she stared her eyes grew accustomed to the night; and she discovered five persons instead of four. Now let us forget it. ’ He moved to his friend and grasped his hand in a gesture as deliberately dramatic as the storytelling of mademoiselle. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. “Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest. Wary they might be. You forget all the mass of training and tradition and instinct that go to make him a tolerable master.
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