But the morning brought courage again, and those first intimations of horror vanished completely from her mind. The important secret remained locked in my breast, but I resolved to be avenged. ‘Only you made me lose my temper, and—’ ‘I made you do so? Pah!’ Gerald at last succeeded in ripping the handkerchief from her grasp, and swiftly held it to her neck, oblivious to her now bloodied fingers clawing at his hand. . But De Maupassant—sheer off! Stick to Dickens and Thackeray and Hugo. Stanley took mustard savagely. ‘Yes, a very sad story,’ agreed the major.
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