The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. ’ A gleam of rare humour slid into Charvill’s chest. “Quite different. It is nothing at all for you to worry about. ‘The old man who lives here, idiot. Their journey had made them indolent, the afternoon was warm, and it seemed impossible to breathe a sweeter air. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. "I don't know," she answered vaguely. ” “And he accepted meekly?” “Practically. All these things spoke of peace;—but there are seasons when the pleasantest external influences have a depressing effect on the mind, by painfully recalling past happiness. Old and dilapidated, the widow's domicile looked the very picture of desolation and misery. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace. She was to be a Corsair’s Bride. “Beautiful these autumn flowers are,” said Ann Veronica, in a wide, uncomfortable pause.
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