Arrived at the extremity of the building, he found that it overlooked the flat-roof of a house which, as far as he could judge in the darkness, lay at a depth of about twenty feet below. ‘Well she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald. She could feel her body rebel against her actions, convulsing, so she forced herself to think of her mother in Heaven, her mother's beautiful face, the sun dancing across the rivers of her home. "What is it you want?" she asked, as she held out the coat. ‘The man’s gone,’ her old nurse told her, when she had recovered a little.
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