You might trust me with the Chevalier himself,—I'd never betray him. ’ Gerald considered. ‘Now you see why it is I no longer require the proof of which I have spoken. The ladies can't sleep in their beds for him; and as to the men, they daren't go to bed at all. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. Wood, who had merely absented himself to see that a public breakfast, which he had ordered at the Six Bells for all who chose to partake of it, was in readiness. He told her something about music, the great world outside. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand.
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