’ Mademoiselle, who had been nodding in agreement at Roding during the first part of this speech, abruptly turned to face Gerald again. . He was alert, well-groomed, and yet—perhaps in contrast with the more volatile French type—there was a suggestion of weight about him, not to say heaviness. In his way he was critical. "I'll tell you why," he said. ’ Gerald moved to the long sofa, dusted it with elaborate care with one of its cushions, and with a gesture invited her to sit down. He reached for her and she stroked his head soothingly as his mother had done a few times when he had suffered bad fevers. "Why can't I?" "You will be compromised. It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream. ’ The woman shrugged helpless shoulders, looking to her husband. His kind eyes were puffy with fatigue. She knew, too, she must not hesitate.
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