It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. She started at the falling of a leaf, at the lumbering of a cow through the hedge. Lights gleamed from the lower rooms, and, on a nearer approach to the building, the sound of revelry might be heard from within. A few minutes later Sir John left the room. \" He perked up, ready to make conversation. “Oh, Veronica!” she said, “to leave your home!” She had been weeping. You did not say a word about it last week, nor have you written.
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