Wood," cried David, pouring out a glass of the spirit, and offering it to the carpenter, "that'll warm the cockles of your heart. The first Step towards the Ladder. Then he turned to Anna. Idiote. Anywhere! Moonlight and music—pleasing, you know, but quite unnecessary. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. Let him be sure. Groans and hoots were now raised by the crowd, and there was an evident disposition to rescue. “Will you help me?” he asked.
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