Seeing the footman about to follow her in, Gerald clamped a hand onto his shoulder. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. As she did so the preparation-room door opened behind her. The boy was bright and inquisitive as he was subtle. The poor old imbecile! Why, this child was a firebrand, a wrecker, if ever he had seen one; and the worst kind because she was unconscious of her gifts. 4. " "Ay, but he will. ‘May I, indeed? I’ll take you up on that.
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