I—I am a lovesick idiot, and not accountable for my actions. ’ So saying, she threw a meaning look over her shoulder at Lucilla, much to Gerald’s approval. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt. Then, her body still tense with the atoms of anger, she sat down upon the edge of the bed and rocked from side to side. He was a handsome man, and Lucy could see the strong resemblance of John to him. He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel. ‘Gérard!’ ‘Yes, it’s I,’ he said, and grinned.
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