“You too were deceived. ’ ‘Parbleu, it is I who am the idiot?’ she scolded furiously, removing one hand and digging it into her sleeve. ‘This is altogether insupportable!’ She dug a hand into the recesses of the petticoat of her riding habit and a moment later Gerald found himself once again confronting the barrel of her overlarge and tarnished pistol. At this juncture, Sir Cecil and his followers appeared at the threshold. ” She shrugged her shoulders. In some incomprehensible way that back view made her feel sorry for Alice. Then the distant relationship to Miss Stanley gave them a slight but pleasant sense of proprietorship in the girl. My feelings overpower me. What would you? I cannot fight them all. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it.
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