‘Ah, yes? To what do I pretend?’ ‘That,’ Gerald said regretfully, ‘I have not yet been able to fathom. ’ Gerald sighed. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. She flushed with desire and happiness, her husband had returned to her and all would be aright. "Was that thunder?" he faltered, as a terrible clap was heard overhead.
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