‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. He then stamped upon the hand on the lower bannister, until that also relaxed its gripe. “I suppose, Mr. 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. ’ ‘You need not be a nun,’ he said, leaning towards her. “We have a private room at St. You've saved my life. . ” For a moment or two he did not speak. ‘You’re either mad, or in love. It's fine with me if it's fine with Cathy, darlin’. Dieu du ciel! Gerald was kissing her! She struggled to be free, and the arms that held her loosened, the lips leaving hers.
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