Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. “If I sit here,” he said, standing up before her abruptly, “I shall have to shout. Gifts came from Florence: rubies and emeralds, a beautiful statue of Santa Maria for their garden grotto, a gorgeous silk tapestry of a hunting scene that alone made the price of her dowry look paltry. A shudder rippled across his shoulders. ‘Indeed?’ Gerald grinned. “He was in holy orders, and we were to have been married when he got a living. ’ Gerald turned and came back to her. ’ ‘But where then is Gosse?’ demanded Melusine. The Victorians over-did it a little, I admit. ” “You remembered. Ah, these English! They travelled all over, up and down the world, not to acquire information but rather to leave the impress of their superiority as a race.
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