The picture in her mind altered and she saw again the way Gerald had looked with consternation upon the bruises he had inflicted on her wrist. Pearls too! I mean it. She had tried him as a Crusader, in which guise he seemed plausible but heavy—“There IS something heavy about him; I wonder if it’s his mustache?”—and as a Hussar, which made him preposterous, and as a Black Brunswicker, which was better, and as an Arab sheik. ” “I am convinced of it,” she answered. "He's about to cross the river. ’ The smile vanished. . And this is not France, you understand. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. All his dreams shattered in an instant.
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