Fortescue had not much ability to keep her sister, and a little while after her mother’s death Ann Veronica met Gwen suddenly on the staircase coming from her father’s study, shockingly dingy in dusty mourning and tearful and resentful, and after that Gwen receded from the Morningside Park world, and not even the begging letters and distressful communications that her father and aunt received, but only a vague intimation of dreadfulness, a leakage of incidental comment, flashes of paternal anger at “that blackguard,” came to Ann Veronica’s ears. \" He looked crestfallen. “Rather darker than most of them. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You should have gone to Charvill. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. She wished she could steal his smiles and keep them in a box, they had always been so precious. He may not be able to eat tin-cans, but he tries to. He understood now that it was a part of her inheritance. ‘What are you going to do now, Gerald?’ He sipped his wine and shrugged. Let us be gone.
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