There is no future for me here. ’ ‘But you must want more. Who says that I am not Meysey Hill? I was trying to scare you. ‘Oh, dearie me, you make me feel a traitor. The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. A woman hard to read, who seemed to delight in keeping locked up behind that fascinating rigidity of feature the intense sensibility which had been revealed to him, her master, only in occasional and rare moments of enthusiasm. ’ So pat, thought Gerald. A little darling? Lord in heaven, he had taken leave of his senses.
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