She asked the inevitable question, the one she knew Michelle was waiting to field like a quarterback anticipating the pass. ’ ‘Did I so?’ Gerald said, amused. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. The rumor mills churned with the news that he harbored for her no ill will, but was simply too busy in his life to have a girlfriend that wasn’t “serious”. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke. Have you ever heard the name of Meysey Hill?” “Meysey Hill?” He repeated it after her, and she knew at once from his tone and his quick glance into her face that the name possessed some significance for him. Last night Mr. gutenberg. “I dare not,” she answered.
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