’ Releasing her, he turned and walked swiftly towards the door. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. Mr. . ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace. Believe me, the bitterness of it has almost departed, crushed out of me together with much of the weariness and sorrow I brought with me here by the nameless glory of these lonely months. “Home, of course,” she answered. .
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