I somehow understood. “You don’t want to go?” “No. And not a worthy tome in sight. Do you know the story of Orpheus? He was a musician who followed his damned wife into Hell to bring her back? He was one of us, I believe. To be no longer with Martha was strange. ‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously. He used to live in a boarding-house in Russell Square. But that's an infirmity shared by a great many sounder heads than mine. C. “Then let me be the judge of what is best,” she answered. That's the kind, my friend, that always fall soft. CHAPTER XXXII.
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