Here we go, thought Gerald. On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. Love!” He held her arm and abandoned it again at her quick defensive movement. E. Love…. A florid-looking young woman rose up and accosted him eagerly. It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers. Why should they be? She and Ramage were friends, very good friends. Manning, with a baffling smile. His tone was kind and sympathetic. The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much.
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