She let Jack go as he passed through the opening. The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. Men ought not to idealize any woman. It seems to me a woman’s duty to be beautiful, to BE beautiful and to behave beautifully, and politics are by their very nature ugly. Gerald’s thoughts raced as he reached out supporting hands and murmured meaningless phrases to soothe. But that, and that sort of thing, is just a day-dream. "Ha!" he exclaimed, with a sudden start, as his glance fell upon the portrait; "how came this into your possession, boy?" "Why don't you answer, sirrah?" cried Wild, in a savage tone, and striking him with the silver staff. "You want me, then?" she said. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. I wouldn't be in his skin for a trifle!" "But he may peach," said Smith casting an oblique glance at Jackson.
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