” “So far,” she continued, eyeing hungrily the last morsel of roll which lay upon her plate, “my only chance of occupation has lain with a photographer who engaged me on the spot and insulted me in half an hour. ’ ‘Lord,’ Gerald murmured, awed more by the outspokenness of his hostess than by what she had said. It was eleven o'clock. For was not Gerald a gentleman? An Englishman, whose services any female—excluding her own self so idiote— would be very happy to have. Jack Kimble nodded eagerly. "I am sorry. . Mind you don't stir till supper's over.
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