"Oh, God! that I might die too," cried Jack, falling on his knees beside her. Her birthday was four months away, and that, at its extremist point, might give her another five pounds. ‘Doesn’t she, Gerald?’ Gerald held up his hands. ” “It is for your good—your good only I am thinking,” he declared. “Then either this man shot himself or some one else shot him immediately before your arrival—or rather if it was not himself the person who did it was in the room, say two minutes, before you arrived. Have we not received Lady Bicknacre just this morning? Not to mention the Comtesse de St Erme. I hate to see you spoil yourself with guys like me.
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