Chapter Two ‘Our French friends are beginning to form quite a little coterie,’ remarked Gerald, covertly studying the group gathered in an alcove at the other side of Lady Bicknacre’s ballroom. ” He smiled, and she felt love for him in that moment as the smile lit up his ebony eyes, eyes whose blackness seemed unfathomable. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. Henceforth Ruth would closely observe her fellow women and note the hang of their skirts. What! mum still.
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