It's gin—a liquor you used to like. ” The man hesitated. ’ Such simple faith touched Gerald. 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. The oblique ruddy lighting distorted them oddly, made queer bars and patches of shadow upon their clothes. Larry kept digging heartily into his spaghetti, not intrigued in the slightest. They talked across their meal in an easy and friendly manner about Ann Veronica’s affairs. " "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard. This I know for at the Valade estate it was talked of very much, even that they supposed me there to be the daughter of Suzanne. “All of which doesn’t help me in the slightest degree to pay back that money.
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