"Heaven be praised she knows me at last. “Like what, Lucy?” She saw the panic threaten to overtake him. He was normal now, and the coat was only a coat. She put down the sketch-books and apparatus she had brought with her, pulled out her stool, and sat down. ’ ‘Why did you not claim it yourself?’ asked Gerald. But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse. "Wretch!" she cried, "you shall not force me to your hateful purpose. Besides ——” She stopped short.
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