82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. “Now,” he said, “no one can blunder in upon us. ” She admonished. He came in with his hands in his trousers pockets and a general air of depression in his bearing. And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. “Yes, John. To find the true father at the expense of the beautiful fairy tale Ruth had woven around the woman in the locket was an intolerable thought. ‘Take this. ’ ‘I am a very English man,’ Gerald said. ‘Charvill?’ uttered Roding frowningly. Listening on the dimlit landing, he saw Roding’s face muscles tighten. Her eyelids fluttered with recognition, and she cried out softly. ’ She eyed him, all her uncertainty surfacing. " Silence. For a pity, she has chosen to remain, and it has been her death.
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