"Yes," answered the girl. He reached a silver cigar and cigarette box from the sideboard and put it before his father-in-law, and for a time the preliminaries of smoking occupied them both. ’ *** 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. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. Later, at the bottom of that envelope I found a letter. She dropped a flower—it’s in my pocket-book now. And nothing to tell her where to begin. Some day I may forgive you; but not now. ‘She wouldn’t tell me.
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