’ He closed the panel and came slowly out of the little dressing-room, Roding at his heels. Gerald, whose French was adequate from his military service abroad, was able to respond suitably to such remarks as the ladies addressed to him, but was less exercised by their fashionable dress than their decidedly careworn appearance. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. “I wanted to make love to you. Had to give up the work and take to this. . In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. Her father was an astute businessman and a hard worker, but also handsome in the face which had aided partly his ascension to the Guild. Sheppard. She recalled how she had stretched out her arms toward the magic blue horizon. The boy was coming around.
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