” Michelle’s tone changed from miserable to conspiratorial. “I opened my eyes, and she was bending over my bedside. ’ Gerald controlled a quivering lip. He told me that he was a millionaire. He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. It was an overcast day, albeit not foggy, and the electric light shades glowed warmly, and an Italian waiter with insufficient English took Ramage’s orders, and waited with an appearance of affection.
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