She was marvellously pretty, but he was not quite sure—yet—that it was advisable for him to sit with her in so public a place. I didn’t understand before that letter. ‘He can’t be Valade, that’s certain,’ mused Gerald, unheeding. “I came to London unexpectedly, and my friends could not take me in. ’ She stopped, for Jack was feebly laughing. The executioner shook his head. His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs. There was a very white-faced youngster of eighteen who brushed back his hair exactly in Russell’s manner, and was disposed to be uncomfortably silent when he was near her, and to whom she felt it was only Christian kindness to be consistently pleasant; and a lax young man of five-and-twenty in navy blue, who mingled Marx and Bebel with the more orthodox gods of the biological pantheon. “He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. We two.
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