Gerald began to ease forward, deciding just how he would accost her. “The point is we’re not toys, toys isn’t the word; we’re litter. “Ugh!” she said. ” “Did it come—in Paris?” “I do not know,” he answered. ‘My papa he does not wish me to marry the man I choose, and thus he places me in the convent that the nuns may lock me up and I cannot escape. How will I protect myself if you do not?’ ‘If you will only confide in me, I will be happy to protect you,’ Gerald said cheerfully. What’s the name of the happy man?” Gwen owned to “Fortescue.
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