She glanced at the Frenchman, and found him struggling with the portrait that was embedded around his scalp. “But about last night. ’ Gerald noted the mixture of respect and apprehension in the glance he received from the boy. “Couldn’t we three go out and have some coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me. Wood with the circumstances, and putting him upon his guard against the possibility of an attack. A curious silence ensued. It might be upset. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. There was nothing to be learned from her face.
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