It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. The day was unseasonably humid and dark, a thick fog having descended over manicured lawns. The son of Prudence instead was obliged to take her back to the convent on Sunday to see Martha and tell her the good news, and to fetch her meagre belongings. Dieu du ciel! Gerald was kissing her! She struggled to be free, and the arms that held her loosened, the lips leaving hers. She was curious to know why he had boarded a dingy train instead of hailing a cab or his own private chauffeur like the others in expensive suits were doing. ‘Her own,’ Gerald replied. She gazed steadily out of the window at that arc of glittering lights. ‘Do you think I could bear to be without you for a moment longer? I am quite jealous of Melusine taking up all your attention. ’ ‘It is you who will get the head blown off,’ threatened the young lady fiercely. “My dear Anna,” he answered.
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