‘It is imbecile that you are. “He couldn’t look me in the face and say it,” said Ann Veronica. ‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. ‘Ah, grandpére. ’ ‘What for?’ asked Gerald, half laughing, as he put his hand in his pocket and brought out his elegant pistol. ' Avoid taverns and bad company, and you may yet do well. Only promise me this. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. I didn’t dream, not even in my wildest dreaming, that—you might have any need of me. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house.
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