CHAPTER XXIV. With this person—who was no other than Mr. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. The wound lay open for five seconds, and then closed neatly as if it had been stitched by invisible hands. So the talk went on, and presently they were criticising novelists, and certain daring essays of Wilkins got their due share of attention, and then they were discussing the future of the theatre. . ’ Gerald eyed her with interest. ’ With pretty imperiousness, she gestured to the bed beside her. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn.
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