Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. I am—’ ‘Like me, entirely English. ’ ‘Very much so,’ Gerald said, matching her tone, and at once forced the discussion back to his own point of interest by adding, ‘I was particularly struck by those poor Valades. The lines about his mouth gradually softened. Every now and then something familiar in her tone, the poise of her head, the play of her eyes startled him.
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