’
‘I am not the imbecile you take me for,’ Gerald said with dangerous calm. "But to the point," continued Wild, unconscious of the peril in which the remark
had placed him,—"to the point. . ”
243
She felt a mixture of embarrassment, humiliation, and
pride well up in her cheeks, flushing them. \"Uh-oh. ‘Then it must certainly be Eugénie. "In spots you are a
thoroughbred; but here's a black mark on your ticket, lad. Some shadow of reserve seemed to
have crept up between them. The trees were
graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden
leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. ’
‘You little fiend,’ exclaimed Gerald wrathfully. Wood had the
advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a
period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the
same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the
shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special
recommendation in female eyes. "
This injunction was instantly obeyed. "I've counted ten coffins so far.
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