’ ‘Ah, but there’s the little matter of your presence here,’ said Gerald on a note of apology. This was the bitterest hour he had ever known. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. “You ARE a female thing at bottom,” he admitted. She spoke slowly. The Procession to Tyburn. “You see,” he said, “from my point of view you’re grown up— you’re as old as all the goddesses and the contemporary of any man alive. Go to her. One can't help being jealous, you know, even of an unworthy object. “That doesn’t touch the question I asked you,” she said. " "You believe—you know it," replied Jonathan, fixing one of his sternest and most searching glances upon him.
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