She dived at once behind the cover of the lamproom and affected serious trouble with her shoe-lace until he was out of the station, and then she followed slowly and with extreme discretion until the bifurcation of the Avenue from the field way insured her escape. But Gerald kept to a casual note. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. At the precise period of this history, the Jacobite party was full of hope and confidence. But you,” he continued, moving imperceptibility a little nearer to her, “you are mine. "A little.
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