We are the species, and maternity is our game; that’s all right, but nobody wants that admitted for fear we should all catch fire, and set about fulfilling the purpose of our beings without waiting for further explanations. Her little white hand stole across the table. Wood could stand it no longer. “H’m!” he said, regarding the wreckage with a calmer visage. It is to take place to-night. ‘Parbleu, but what a person you make me! One who spies. If you know her for the vicious, scheming wretch that she is, why in God’s name—?’ ‘She’s not a vicious, scheming wretch,’ Gerald said calmly.
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