His face was white. I am not angry with you, but with this—this—’ ‘Idiot? Imbecile?’ offered Gerald in a helpful tone. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. Wood was heard without, angrily demanding admittance. Supper was over. For a time he and Miss Klegg contradicted one another. " "Impossible!" rejoined his mother. The curtain before one mystery was torn aside, and she saw in reality what lay behind the impulse that had led her into the young man's room. They sat in the front row.
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