Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. A smile trembled at the corners of her mouth as she recalled Gerald’s ridiculous upbraiding of his own reflection in the mirror. She had taken care he should have this momentous talk with her on a garden-seat commanded by the windows of the house. Giles's church, the bell of which continued tolling all the time, passed the pound, and entered Oxford Road, or, as it was then not unfrequently termed, Tyburn Road. The lonely widows of robber barons found him irresistible and he was the guest of many a fine table. ’ ‘Oh, have you?’ grunted Gerald, surprising in himself a surge of some odd emotion at these words. "One'd think it rained fares, as well as blowed great guns. Now, will you do me the honour of lunching with me, Miss Pellissier?” Anna hesitated.
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