She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. " "Perhaps not," replied Jack, to whom an idea had suddenly occurred. Gerald went through all the papers in front of Gosse and that woman of his, one by one. To stumble upon the trail through the agency of a bottle of whisky! Drank queer; so his bottle had rendered him conspicuous. Forthwith he presented his card. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery. She met his eyes for a moment, and could not interpret their expression.
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