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"I guessed as much. Spare him!—pity me!" With this she arose, and, taking up the infant, was about to proceed down stairs, when she was alarmed by hearing the street-door opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps entering the house. Dieu du ciel, but where was Gerald? On the move again, she found herself standing before one of the mirrors, gazing into her own countenance without seeing it. They slow danced to a Bon Jovi ballad. “Troubles, my friend,” she exclaimed lightly. She tried not to pant, not to reveal herself, and she began to shake.
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