"Dying, Sir Rowland. What need had she of Gerald, or anyone? Yet, if he was here, would he not make some foolish game with her and make her laugh? Instead of behaving in this fashion so stupide, and crying, crying, crying. But he seized the chance to entrap her fingers, fan and all, and look deeply into her eyes. “Dear friend,” she said, “do not magnify me into a physiological problem. It is no more a murder, but a duel, you understand. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. ’ ‘I would have done, only you threatened to blow off my head,’ Gerald reminded her, laughing.
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