‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. No lights were flashing, and a single squad car was not a cause for alert, as sometimes the Becks allowed squads to use their drive to watch for speeders and other reckless drivers. Into one of these he waded and rolled and rolled, despite her commands. The infant was rescued from a watery-grave by an honest mechanic, who has since brought him up as his own son. “Does he live here?” he asked her presently. "I don't deserve it," he said, at length; "but I would have risked a thousand deaths to enjoy this moment's happiness. Your aunt liked the pheasant. No doubt that was due to his helplessness. I don’t mean I’m not a good woman—I mean that I’m not a GOOD woman. ” “Rather! But I wonder why you don’t mean it?” “Because, I suppose, the other thing is better. ‘How the deuce did she get out without me seeing her?’ ‘Took advantage of the distraction, cunning little devil,’ Gerald snapped, racing down the corridor.
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