But you must not imagine me wrapped in melancholy. “And how did you find us here?” “I called at Montague Street a few minutes after you had left. Montague Hill. The estates must, ere long, revert to Sir Rowland. I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. " "And why not?" asked Kneebone, eagerly.
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