‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. We had no idea. And, in fact, all round the problem you don’t know and I don’t see how I could possibly have told you before. She admired and rather pitied him, and she was unfeignedly grateful to him. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. “How can you know?” “I think—perhaps I am rather a cold-blooded person. “I have had adventures—oh, more than one, I can assure you. When the woollen-draper was nearly worn out, the Amazon watched her opportunity, and hitting him on the arm, disabled it.
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