“I am lonely. 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. What she admired in her man was his resolute defense of his opinions. “That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park. As he entered the shop, a tall portly personage advanced to meet him, whom he at once recognised as the present proprietor. There is light enough from the sun,’ she said, relieved.
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