Chapter Two ‘Our French friends are beginning to form quite a little coterie,’ remarked Gerald, covertly studying the group gathered in an alcove at the other side of Lady Bicknacre’s ballroom. "Aw, piffle!" he said, half aloud and rather disgustedly, as he stepped out into the sunshine. “I’m rather a persistent person. ” He spoke a little nervously. She walked over to them still carrying the trousers in her hands, and stooped to examine them. And there was another matter. Dear me, what a nuisance it is to have a pseudo husband shot down upon one from the skies.
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