"Can you not love him?" "Love him!" echoed the widow. Instead, she laughed, laughed with lips and eyes, laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks. The original passage, Martha had told her, had led only from an upstairs room to one downstairs. "I give you joy of the capture, Mr. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. “I do not even know who you are. “Touch a hair on his head and you will insure that I will never make love to you again. “I’ve fallen in love. “If I am,” he answered, reddening, “you can scarcely assert that it is without a cause. Missy looked like a troll with lipstick on. Was it a week ago? No, perhaps more. “All’s well that ends well,” he said; “and the less one says about things the better. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company.
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