She clenched her hands together and leaned forward in her chair, gazing steadily into the fire. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. During the foregoing occurrences a dead calm prevailed. He's worth a dozen of you. For if Gerald had indeed gone to see this Prudence, it was better to wait for his report. She glanced at the Frenchman, and found him struggling with the portrait that was embedded around his scalp. Wood, was pronounced by that lady to be very much sprained; and she, forthwith, proceeded to bathe it with a reddish-coloured lotion.
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