He made it impossible not to respond, his arms tightening deliciously around hers. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. “I—I am sorry—I didn’t explain. You are captain of your soul; don't forget your Henley. ’ ‘You mean Valade? Don’t be downhearted. What a heat that news had wrought. “A nice time of anxiety you’ve given me, young lady,” he said, as he entered the room.
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