‘Could she have been a spy, after all?’ ‘Oh, she’s not a spy,’ Gerald answered, almost absently. For his own part he could not sufficiently admire the pluck of this lady, who, notwithstanding all that she had been through, had chosen to appear this evening rather than break her engagement. As he crossed the cellar, he passed so near to Jack who had concealed himself behind a piece of furniture that he almost touched him. She was a much lighter and more frivolous person, very charming and companionable—but with a difference—a great difference. These sham ideals and advanced notions. She peered into the darkness.
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