The flicker of an eyelash might betray his presence. “Why should women be dependent on men?” she asked; and the question was at once converted into a system of variations upon the theme of “Why are things as they are?”—“Why are human beings viviparous?”—“Why are people hungry thrice a day?”—“Why does one faint at danger?” She stood for a time looking at the dry limbs and still human face of that desiccated unwrapped mummy from the very beginnings of social life. It was dangerous for her to dare approaching him and she knew the tremendous risk she was taking, but a part of her demanded that he be found. Her wedding gown! She wondered if the spirit of the unknown mother looked down upon her. It was Jack, wasn’t it?’ ‘Aye, s-sir. Retribution has a queer way of acting sometimes. He was in the house with his mother. ‘But you said—’ Gerald tutted. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account. Occasionally he would lean back and stare at the window which gave upon the sea. God must love me, for he has guided me here. I should as soon think of trusting a woman.
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