There was question in Gerald’s gaze as it met hers, and apology in his voice. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. She was supposed to be reading at home, and after breakfast she strolled into the vegetable garden, and having taken up a position upon the staging of a disused greenhouse that had the double advantage of being hidden from the windows of the house and secure from the sudden appearance of any one, she resumed the reading of Mr. ’ ‘Yes,’ she agreed, but her manner was a degree less warm. Sebastian administered bitter tonics to her, fluids she could not taste with her swollen tongue. A faint buzz above the ceiling witnessed that petrography, too, was active.
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