For a long time neither spoke again. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said. “I refuse. The picture in her mind altered and she saw again the way Gerald had looked with consternation upon the bruises he had inflicted on her wrist. She says she will have to, though she does not wish to. The man’s as obstinate as a mule. They order me to get my man, and I get him. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. If he awoke and caught you at it, there might be a set-back. She had better escape if she can. He will be dependent on you.
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