‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. His face was that of a quick, intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear olive complexion. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. ‘For that, I must conceal that I also have enjoyed the kiss. A stiff, formally-cut coat of cinnamon-coloured cloth, with rows of plate buttons, each of the size of a crown piece, on the sleeves, pockets, and skirts, reached the middle of his legs; and his costume was completed by the silver-hilted sword at his side, and the laced hat under his left arm. It was a unique experience for her to wash him. The Widow and her Child. And, yet, I don't know.
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