CHAPTER V. You have to come over to my house. The wine bubbled and seethed; and the exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room. Gerald lost his head. For Mr Jarvis was beside himself when the letter come from Mr Charvill and he knew he’d lost you as well as Miss Mary. A momentary petrifaction, and terror had lent wings to her feet. “I had the pleasure of—er—meeting you more than once, I believe. "Miss Enschede, you're seven kinds of a brick!" "A brick?" He chuckled. He rather liked the "sir"; it signified both gratefulness and the chastened spirit. ” He was intrigued. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. And, mind! no prevaricating—nothing but the truth will satisfy me.
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