She stepped on to the pavement almost before him, and his blood turned almost to ice as he saw that she was not alone. Gerald went through all the papers in front of Gosse and that woman of his, one by one. A slow horror was dawning in his fixed eyes. She further suspected that he might find a servant to dally with in the meantime, if he had not already. At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. She made an abrupt personal appeal. “It’s—private. A jolly night we made of it, as you may suppose; for four such monarchs don't often come together. “Come,” she said. And Miss Miniver began to sway her. ‘She’s an eviltempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought.
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