Monsieur Valade heaved a gusty sigh, and Gerald, with heavy diplomacy and a forced heartiness of manner, turned the subject. The room seemed a vacuum. But I am not worthy to be any man's wife —far less his wife. She rose at once with a little exclamation, half of surprise, half of pleasure. Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. "Well, Jack," said the prize-fighter, in a rough, but friendly voice, and with a cutand-thrust abrupt manner peculiar to himself; "how are you, lad, eh? Sorry to see you here.
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