It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. It arises, I think, from an over developed sense of humour. Gerald’s gaze bored into hers. ‘I was not born to this. I shall charge you five per cent. There was already a score or more of people there, some standing up and talking together, others seated in chairs ranged along the wall. There is Lady Arlingford’s reception to-night, ten till twelve, and the Hatton House ball, marked with a cross, sir, important.
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