"I don't think he would leave me, even if I could part with him," observed Mrs. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. There’s no sense in morality, I suppose, unless you are fundamentally immoral. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. The business of serving gave Gerald a few moment’s grace, for he was dubious about the effect on an elderly female, not in the best of health, of raking up old memories.
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