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” CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH THE LAST DAYS AT HOME Part 1 They decided to go to Switzerland at the session’s end. You didn’t see me fall into a swoon when you cursed just now, did you?’ ‘I’m beginning to doubt if anything less than a sledgehammer would send you into a swoon,’ Gerald retorted. Regardless of the risk he incurred from some heavy stone dropping on his head or feet,—regardless also of the noise made by the falling rubbish, and of the imminent danger which he consequently ran of being interrupted by some of the jailers, should the sound reach their ears, he continued to pull down large masses of the wall, which he flung upon the floor of the cell. The asylum was approached by a broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by tufted trees. Old farmhouses loomed as they whizzed by, left behind in the gray like mourners. Do you want me, too?” “Yes,” she whispered foolishly, in the throes of rapture. The inner apartment was rather gracefully furnished with a thick, fine Turkish carpet, a good brass fender, a fine old bureau, and on the walls were engravings of two young girls’ heads by Greuze, and of some modern picture of boys bathing in a sunlit pool. Lucy looked down, noticing that Michelle had left her shoes in the entryway.
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