“You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament. He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. Remote little Ann Veronica! She would never know the heart of that child again! That child had loved fairy princes with velvet suits and golden locks, and she was in love with a real man named Capes, with little gleams of gold on his cheek and a pleasant voice and firm and shapely hands. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. This obstacle, which appeared to preclude the possibility of egress in that quarter, was speedily got rid of. The blaze, however, was sufficient to reveal to the thief-taker the features of his intended assassin.
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