Bird and have come hither. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. Yet she could not bring herself to hate the girl, or even Gianfrancesco, the one who would have sent her to her death more than once. Her dainty shoes were soiled with dust and there was a great tear in her skirt. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. ’ Gerald’s eyes never left the girl.
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