Gerald frowned. ’ She raised the pistol. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. Turning now, and running down the terrace. From the threshold she looked her accuser steadily and coldly in the face. There was something markedly and deliberately liberal-minded in his manner in all their encounters. It seemed to him that speech would be an anticlimax. What was the fellow about? Was he being imposed upon? He watched as the man Valade turned back, spreading his hands in the French way. Anna never knew whither it had led her— sometimes she had fears. “You’re still,” he said, “in the educational years.
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