‘To find what?’ demanded Gerald. A woman was born to have children, particularly male children. Beyond was a narrow bridge, crossing a circular building, at the bottom of which lay a deep well. The doctor's lessons, perhaps delivered with too much serious emphasis, had destroyed that buoyant confidence in her ability to take care of herself. She inhaled a deep breath of air—London air. She had denied it with vigor, and here she was! She did not so much exhaust this general question as pass from it to her insoluble individual problem again: “What am I to do?” She wanted first of all to fling the forty pounds back into Ramage’s face. She saw its depraved eyes, but worse were the glittering teeth as it smiled. I must practise what I preach.
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