‘Whither away, mademoiselle?’ he said grimly, ungently grasping her arm above the elbow. ’ ‘A convent?’ echoed Gerald with interest. The picture of Mary Remenham was still on the wall. He looked just like John Wayne in a cowboy movie, his eyes narrow and squinting, except his hair was long, unruly, and jet black. Perhaps you will now explain the alarm. I have never told you so, or Sydney, but I can sing—rather well. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. “Let me see,” she said to herself, trying to control a slight sinking of the heart, “I am going to take a room in a lodging-house because that is cheaper. ’ Sheer exasperation made Gerald release her as he broke into reluctant laughter.
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