“Why not?” “Because you are mine. Well-balanced, sane, wasn’t I? You never heard anyone call me a madman? I’m pretty near being one now, and it’s her fault. Lady Palsworthy was the widow of a knight who had won his spurs in the wholesale coal trade, she was of good seventeenth-century attorney blood, a county family, and distantly related to Aunt Mollie’s deceased curate. White calls them. He reached out a hand gropingly, sagged, and toppled out of the chair to the floor, where he lay very still. ’ ‘I thought so,’ Gerald said with satisfaction. ’ ‘Well, don’t blame me if you get your head blown off. What do you say to Brighton——” Anna looked at him quietly—and he never finished his sentence.
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