Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. She admired his backside as he fetched a blue towel from his bathroom. Now then," he added more calmly, "I am ready to die. ‘This is altogether insupportable!’ She dug a hand into the recesses of the petticoat of her riding habit and a moment later Gerald found himself once again confronting the barrel of her overlarge and tarnished pistol. She started forward. But I will not believe you. ’ ‘What husband?’ ‘Precisely. Hetty, looking out of the window—she always smoked her after-breakfast cigarette at the window for the benefit of the less advanced section of Morningside Park society—and trying not to raise objections, saw Miss Stanley going down toward the shops. Hang the wench! Roding was right. Brendon’s guests,” she said, “and I scarcely think it would be nice of me to leave him alone with Sydney. There was—a service.
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