His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. Gerald glanced at Hilary and saw the stunned look on his face. —"As Rowland's whole crew perished in the tempest, and he only escaped by miracle, he fancied himself free from detection. Only I wish that it did not remind one so much of a second-hand clothes shop. There would be ultimate misery, but it would be needless cruelty to give her a push toward it.
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