Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. Would she ever find it? Sighing, she opened the door to the next room, and drew back the drapes. "'This is the way in which I will serve all who attempt to apprehend me. ‘What do you think?’ ‘What do I think?’ repeated Captain Roding. She resumed her on guard position, and glaring steadily at him, waited again. “Don’t be an ass, Ferringhall,” he said tersely. What could I do at home? The other’s a crumple-up—just surrender. She knew it. She fluttered it with a trembling hand, averting her eyes from his, and he could hear her uneven breath behind it. The entrance was concealed between two huge boulders within a clump of trees, and was now so overgrown that no one who did not know of its existence could ever hope to find it. She looked in the glass over and over as she checked for lint and makeup streaks. That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. To-morrow, we'll go to the Fleet and get spliced. ” “And you can’t?” “I don’t think I ought to control myself. Last night there had been no time.
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