She turned her head away sharply. There came to Spurlock the recurrence of the grim resolution of what he had set out to do: that comradeship was all he might ever give this exquisite creature; for she was exquisite, and in a way she dominated this picture of sea and sky and sail. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace. That was the Frenchie, Valade, surely. "You are no longer Thames Darrell," she said, casting her eyes rapidly over it; "but the Marquis de Chatillon. She paused for a moment. He had no wish to drag the footman out of his way, once he had got his questions answered. “There are two things to be done,” he said softly to himself. Just let him down easy, Lucy. “You may call anytime. " CHAPTER V.
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