. 8 or 1. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. She would be enduing this chap with attributes he did not possess, clothing him in fictional ruffles. You cannot care for her. If it came at all, it was as fleeting as the girl's smile. Lucy studied Katy for the rest of the game. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. I knew it. "How very like it is!" "Not so strange, surely," laughed Thames, "that a picture should resemble the person for whom it's intended.
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