It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. "If you don't decide quickly, I'll scream," cried Mrs. . ‘That—that—why do you speak of him?’ ‘Because I feel you ought to know,’ Gerald said calmly, but rising and watching her closely, ‘that all your trouble may be in vain. There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions. ‘This is not a place for a man. At last his voice came to release her tension. Rage flooded her at his intent, but she controlled it.
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