Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. . ’ Relaxing back, Gerald folded his arms. Presently he turned to Courtlaw. It was a serene and charming evening, and twilight was gently stealing over the face of the country. “The adventures I do not doubt, Annabel,” she said. The release was so great that she felt tears spring from her eyes. It did not matter that he wore the cloth; something was wrong with him. Here was a terrific figure gnashing his teeth, and howling like a wild beast;—there a lover, with hands clasped together and eyes turned passionately upward. She could not risk going in the door, lest she run into Larry or Cathy drinking a nocturnal glass of milk or Mike raiding the refrigerator for snacks. He felt hands tugging at him, mysterious creatures with long fingers and sharp nails that pulled at his flesh.
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