Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. He seemed to be thinking hard. A message was dispatched from Florence that she was to again receive her future husband. CHAPTER XX. She saw how overworked he was. “It rests with them by the nature of things. ’ Gerald’s jaw tightened. Such revelations she hoped would be considered out of place and inappropriate. Once more breaking through the hedge he took to the fields. When Mrs. She arrived about nine o’clock the next evening in a state of tremulous enthusiasm. There was first the Avenue, which ran in a consciously elegant curve from the railway station into an undeveloped wilderness of agriculture, with big, yellow brick villas on either side, and then there was the pavement, the little clump of shops about the postoffice, and under the railway arch was a congestion of workmen’s dwellings.
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