“If I do,” he said. . The wedding procession passed on, and the cynical rabble poured in behind. Gerald studied the darkness beyond the aperture. In stature, he was short and stumpy; in person, corpulent; and in countenance, sleek, snub-nosed, and demure. I tried to get across the terrace and onto the bridge to introduce myself, but the crowds did not part and I lost you. A wooden balcony in one of the adjoining houses was thronged with ladies, all of whom appeared to take a lively interest in the scene, and to be full of commiseration for the criminal, not, perhaps, unmixed with admiration of his appearance. I am not angry with you, but with this—this—’ ‘Idiot? Imbecile?’ offered Gerald in a helpful tone. They’re fairly intricate little things. It isn’t sentiment but it’s horse sense. But, feeling secure of vengeance, he determined to abide his time. But he wrote on. ‘You’re speaking the truth.
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