"All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. The Frenchman was already being followed. The man had favoured him with a brief nod, but the girl had gone so far as to offer a tiny smile, and a look under her lashes with which not even Gerald, for all his scant interest in female society, could fail to be familiar. And the woman who showed this room was tall, with an understanding eye and the quiet manner of the well-trained servant. I may as well think. ” “Suppose he comes and talks to me?” “A girl can always keep a man at a distance if she cares to do it.
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