If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances. “Lucy, I have to talk to you. ’ *** 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. This morning I met him at the dock, and he wouldn't take the other fifty. You are different from all the world for me. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. “That is my dream of you,” said Manning, warming. That Frenchie, that’s who she is. ‘That’s what started the fracas,’ Gerald admitted ruefully, nursing his injured hand as he recalled it.
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