” “I’ll frame it—when I get it. There was a confused impression of livery carriages and whips with white favors, people fussily wanting other people to get in before them, and then the church. Death belongs to God, young man. ‘You are the one that I have met in London. It is the worst of talk under such social circumstances that it is always getting cut off so soon as it is beginning; and I went home that afternoon feeling I had said nothing—literally nothing—of the things I had meant to say to you and that were coursing through my head. ‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously.
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