She had seen Mrs. I mean—I mean to do what I can. As soon as dinner was over she went into the kitchen and devoted herself to compiling a tray—not a tray merely of halfcooled dinner things, but a specially prepared “nice” tray, suitable for tempting any one. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. She stole a few glances at John as she stood and played the pieces. After the first courses however she scarcely noticed him. He fended these things off from him with the rump of his fourth piece of cake.
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