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‘Maybe not,’ Gerald conceded, ‘but I’m damned if I herald my approach with a lot of unnecessary blundering about in the dark. “Now I suppose Brendon understands exactly what you mean,” he remarked. I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. I suppose I was a little idiotic—I don’t think we either of us mentioned the future, but it was arranged that I should go the next afternoon and have tea with her. CHAPTER XII. —'Why, hang every bailiff that sets a foot in your territories, and you're safe,' says I. She is a fortune-teller and a vessel for man’s pleasure. The villagers were thronging to church.

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