“Now you must go,” she said firmly. During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. ‘What the devil for?’ ‘Messenger,’ Gerald explained. But he had shown no desire for information, no curiosity. Both had very singular faces; very odd wigs, very much pulled over their brows; and very large cravats, very much raised above their chins. . The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. A brief feeling of empathy with Pottiswick passed through him. The latter had delivered himself from one of his assailants, the attendant, Davies. A little table covered with a damask cloth was dragged out. . His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love.
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