Have you been away from Morningside Park?” “I’m not interrupting you?” “You are. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. Our men had him fast, held down in a chair. ‘Gérard—’ ‘What now?’ he asked, rife with suspicion. And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed.
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