‘We may have to,’ Gerald answered thoughtfully, staring at the window to one side. He hated the taste of it. ’ A panel slid open and she stepped into the relative light of the little dressingroom, Kimble close behind her. "As long as I live, I'll never forget that dress of hers," Prudence declared. During the narration Jack's features lighted up, and an expression, which would have been in vain looked for in repose, was instantly caught and depicted by the skilful artist. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. Perhaps I am still mad.
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