It’s just life, pure life, life nascent, running clear and strong. He awoke, strangely content. Taking a firm grasp of his pistol, Gerald eased back, let go the handle of the door, and at the same instant, swung his booted foot. He had come to Anna’s rooms from a dinner party, and he was in evening dress. In all other respects they differed as materially. E. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers.
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