“Oh, it is okay. He was waiting in the outer hall as she tiptoed in. She had seen a man’s head steal out for a moment and draw the curtains a little closer. ‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously. “You see, dear, one IS passionately anxious for something—what is it? One wants to be CLEAN. The lighting-up pierced the obscurity of the box, and Ramage stopped his urgent flow of words abruptly and sat back. But she no longer felt Jacomo’s age, even if she looked it. ” To remain, she felt, was to concede everything.
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