’ ‘Where then is your uniform?’ ‘I don’t wear it to balls. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. The first peg was torture. “Then I don’t take this as final. ‘I am not in the least in a rage. The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an invitation to sunstroke. “Bless you, sweetheart. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh.
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