The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. ’ While he trod a deliberate path through the pink saloon towards the door, Gerald encouraged a flow of harmless chatter about the people Madame had met and the parties she had attended. "Beat down their blades," cried the Master; "no bloodshed. Everything in his favour—the luck of the gods! The only white men were miles down the coast. There he paused again, half turning his back and pretending to look for someone among the soldiers on the benches. Voting wouldn’t do no ‘arm to ‘er.
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