Instantly seizing it, the young man placed it in the carriage, shut the door, and commanded his servants to drive off. He appeared suddenly from the infinite in the neighborhood of the Burlington Arcade, crossing the pavement toward her and with his eyes upon her. He looked at it eagerly, but made no movement to take it. "Hands off!" she exclaimed, "or you'll repent it. At once there came an answering knock. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. "What is it you want?" she asked, as she held out the coat. Could she hold him and manage the reins? If only Gerald had not gone. It rained heavily all day, so he did not stir forth. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company.
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