Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. “Listen! There was a Meysey Hill in Paris, an American railway millionaire. “I wonder how it is,” she exclaimed, “that my friends have so much more confidence in me than I have in myself. ’ Was there a careful note in her voice? Gerald gave no sign, keeping his own tone light. John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be. “Only you are the woman I love, and you are in trouble. She would be healthy, too, and vigorous. But we have got to talk upon indifferent themes until we have done with this blond young gentleman from Bavaria.
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