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’ ‘You know, Gerald,’ Lucilla put in thoughtfully, forestalling a withering rejoinder from the captain, ‘there may be something in that. “There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed. Back, that you may be close together. I daresay you have the whole thing wrong, Gerald. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. . The man had favoured him with a brief nod, but the girl had gone so far as to offer a tiny smile, and a look under her lashes with which not even Gerald, for all his scant interest in female society, could fail to be familiar.
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