If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. You are not playing to-night, are you?” “Not to-night,” she answered. I owed his father a grudge: that I settled long ago. But never had the hand touched her with a father's caress; never had he taken her into his arms; never had he kissed her. ‘But if there is one, how in the world did this mystery lady of yours know of it?’ ‘That, Lucy, is precisely the point that has been exercising my mind,’ Gerald said, turning his eyes once more to the group of French exiles in the alcove. She is no more English than that set of beggars over there. Only promise me to amend—to quit your vile companions—and I will forgive you—will bless you.
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