"
"This thing has got to quit!" said he grimly.
She said nothing, but reached up shyly and touched his face where
Kendrick's whip had stung, and her eyes became very tender. A
carriage rolled around Washington Arch, and, coming to a stand,
discharged its single passenger on the pavement.
"Why, it's Gerald!" cried Carroll, surprised.
The young man, catching sight of them, picked his way daintily and
leisurely toward them. He was, as usual, dressed with meticulous
nicety, the carnation in his button-hole, the gloss on his hat and
shoes, the freshness on his gloves, the correct angle on his stick.
His dark, long face with its romantic moustache, and its almost
effeminate soft eyes, was as unemotional and wearied as ever. As he
approached, he raised his stick slightly by way of salutation.
"I have brought," said he, "a carriage, and I wish you would both do
me the favour to accompany me on a short excursion."
Taking their consent for granted, he signalled the vehicle, which
rapidly approached.
The three--Carroll and Orde somewhat bewildered--took their seats.
During a brief drive, Gerald made conversation on different topics,
apparently quite indifferent as to whether or not his companions
replied.
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