’ ‘It’s too late for that,’ Gerald told her evenly. That’s— that’s my private life. The Old Mint III. ” “Why not?” “Free woman—and equal. She remembered abruptly that she was really living upon his money. The galleries adjoining it were crowded with spectators,—so was the roof of a large tavern, then the only house standing at the end of the Edgeware Road,—so were the trees,—the walls of Hyde Park,—a neighbouring barn, a shed,—in short, every available position. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot.
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