She was emerging from the primordial as Spurlock was declining toward it. He seemed to be. Michelle looked at Lucy knowingly. The intruder was handsomely, even richly, attired in a scarlet riding-suit, embroidered with gold; a broad belt, to which a hanger was attached, crossed his shoulders; his boots rose above his knee, and he carried a laced hat in his hand. Gerald? But could he be here so quickly? She hastily dabbed at her eyes, thankful for the darkness that she saw had come on outside unnoticed, dimming the room. To love in such a way, it is excessively selfish.
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