The evenings were dulcet and soft. She could see that he was curious, so she sat upon him and they rocked back and forth. ‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. He stamped his last letter as Annabel entered. He turned his eyes and stared at Miss Garvice like one who wakes from a reverie, and then got up and strolled down the laboratory toward his refuge, the preparation-room. Anyhow, he did not sentimentalize her. It is picturesquely situated beneath a tree on the high road, not far from the little hostel before mentioned, and at no great distance from the church.
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