Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. Please yourself. She is English! I am sure of that. What a fool I was to separate the two in my mind. ” “Oh, well!” he said, a little doubtfully, “it’s just a phase,” and bent down and rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment, with his heart beating and his nerves a-quiver. ’ Relaxing back, Gerald folded his arms.
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