Well, my dear, it is time you stopped wallowing in your sorrows like a common wretch. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise. She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself. ’ ‘Now why didn’t I make that connection?’ Gerald asked of the air in a tone of regret. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. They rose as she approached.
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