The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. ‘What a fate he finds for me. For every Eden, there will be a serpent; for every sheepfold, there will be a wolf. Gerald grinned. From his wallet he brought forth a yellow letter. There was a pause, while the steel grey eyes sliced at her. She became eager to explain herself, to show herself in the right light. Startled by this circumstance, he looked around, and perceived that the trap-door,—which has been mentioned as communicating with a secret staircase,—was open. “I will MAKE you love me! Until he has faded—faded into a memory.
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